


(camera) lenses aren't meant to be broken

by LoveGeek15



Series: Pretty Setter Superhero Squad (the Series) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Atsumu Miya Character Study used as en excuse to do more world building, Developing Relationship, M/M, POV Miya Atsumu, Photographer Atsumu, Pretty Setter Squad, Pretty Setter Superhero Squad, Reporter Kiyoomi, Unreliable Narrator, implied bokuaka, rated T for slight violence and language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveGeek15/pseuds/LoveGeek15
Summary: In a world where superheroes exist, we follow Atsumu as he figures out what it means to have a crush on someone (trying to reveal your identity)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Pretty Setter Superhero Squad (the Series) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077848
Comments: 25
Kudos: 77





	1. Smile

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct spinoff of my PSSS (Pretty Setter Superhero Squad) AU, but can be read as a stand alone fic, as there is backstory for Atsumu’s character development! Also: don’t blast me for not knowing how news/newspaper companies work, i just want news people sakuatsu okay :’)
> 
> Updates every week (hopefully)

“Smile Omi-Omi!”

The shutter clicks as the reporter covers the lens of Atsumu’s camera with his massive hand. “Ugh, can you stop doing that when we’re out?”

“Hey look, I got one of yer curls on here,” he says smiling at the small screen and promptly ignoring the taller’s previous statement.

It was a beautiful Tuesday afternoon; the sun was shining just above them and he and his partner of the day were sent out to the city’s Museum of Heroes to talk about the newest recruit, Synergy, who was recently added to one of their displays. 

It’s also pretty rare for Omi-kun to willingly go outside for work, despite being a reporter for their company. He likes to take online interviews instead, staying in his office to conduct, write, and report any news that shows up or is sent to him. So when he silently accepted the job yesterday, even after hearing Atsumu was the assigned photographer, Atsumu was in shock.

They’re… not really friends, Atsumu thinks based on how Omi-kun acts towards him. Especially at the beginning, when Sakusa was first hired. After a few weeks of not really talking to each other, despite being in the same department, they argued to no end about how the page should be formatted and threw petty insults at each other’s work. After about a month of that, a literal ray of sunshine was also hired by their company by the name of Hinata Shouyou. In a matter of two days, he was able to calm down, with the help of another loud sun, Bokuto, he and Sakusa’s petty arguments, simmering them down to spiky banter. They both gave pretty interesting points as to why they always argue (“Sakusa-san, you both want to see the other succeed, that’s why you’re always pushing each other to do better!”) and why their works compliment each other (“Without Omi-kun, your pictures wouldn’t mean anything and confuse people who want to know what it's about, Tsum-tsum!”). 

Their relationship improved slightly after that to a mild tolerance when one night, they both had to stay late in the building to finish up their current projects that they were falling behind on. Now, I’m sure you’ve heard of this scenario a million times, but _experiencing_ a late night catch up session, especially one like this, is nothing like that. 

To put it simply, they lost their minds trying to finish up their work. 

Luckily (or maybe unluckily) they were alone during the night, since everyone finished earlier to celebrate the new years (also another unlucky thing). They weren’t even drunk, coffee never made it into their system and the AC never bothered them from how much they were laughing their lungs out. Atsumu wouldn’t be able to tell you how it started either, they just started talking about the randomest things that came into their mind and called each other stupid or the greatest thinker to ever think. With the fireworks booming behind them, pausing their strange conversation, Atsumu couldn’t help but smile at his coworker, who apparently felt his gaze and turned his head to smile back. 

It was dark, Atsumu ran to turn off the lights so they could enjoy the fireworks, but there was enough to see his smile. _It looks soft_ was the best description he could give. His eyebrows were relaxed- no, his whole _face_ was relaxed into that smile. The lingering questions of _when did he stop using his mask?_ and _where did this warming feeling come from?_ float around him as Sakusa sighs at the fireworks. He tells a story of how he used to be scared of the sounds they made when he was little until his older sister (Sakusa has a sister?) told him that the sound was just the gods clapping for the completed year and accomplishments he worked hard for. He knows that’s not true now, but it was a nice thing to think about, he told Atsumu. 

“I was never scared of fireworks,” Atsumu lied, crossing his arms confidently. 

“Yeah, and the sky is green,” Sakusa rolls his eyes, a quirk in his mouth still there.

It was fun learning about him, listening and talking to him. To Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

And ever since they both finished their work that morning, Atsumu hasn’t been able to see the same smile he saw with the fireworks. 

He wants to see that gorgeous smile again. Which is why he takes the pictures, by the way. 

Welcome back to the present.

“You’re wasting the memory on that camera, Miya,” Omi-Omi squints at him, shrugging his shoulders closer to his ears as they walk along the streets. The museum is nearby, why would they need a driver if they can save gas _and_ get some exercise while they’re at it?

“Eh, I just delete ’em afterwards,” he sighs in response as the camera makes a clicking sound as it turns off. He definitely lied here. Okay, it sounds bad, but he doesn’t usually lie as much as you think he does. It’s just that there may or may not be an entire folder on his personal laptop named “Urchins'' with all the failed pictures of Omi in it. 

The walk is about 15 minutes from the MSBY building and the fresh air breezing past his ears are welcoming under the increasing temperature. He’s about to complain about the humid weather when a crash and car alarm blares into their ears from behind. 

Someone’s already screaming as they spin around at the sound. A minion about half the size of the four story building beside it threw its three arms in the air, screeching at the humans around him. He grabs the same car and flings it at the side of the building. But because it’s made by Kozume foundations, the building barely cracks, only a mild crater implanting on its side. 

“Holy shit,” Atsumu whispers to himself. _Those must be some damn good foundation, but what the fuck? That was a full car-_

“Miya, take out your camera,” Omi-kun squeezes his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the monster’s sight. “Now.”

“W-what?” the blond panics, not only from Omi grabbing onto his shoulder but also because his phone is ringing.

Which meant _they’ve_ been anticipating this round of Black Cobra monsters for hours by now. 

“Take out your camera!” Omi-kun shouts, pulling him away from the path of a thrown trash can. “We need to catch this!”

“Hey, wait a sec-!” Atsumu shoves away from the reporter, rubbing his shoulder. “One, _ow!?_ And two, we can’t just follow the minion! We need to get to safety!”

“Since when did you care about safety? Don’t you always say you were in the first Black Cobra interview?”

Atsumu places a hand on his chest. “Aw, you remember?”

Another piece of debris flies their way, causing Omi-kun to push the both of them away from the impact. “You talk about it so damn much- can you turn off your phone? We don’t have time for this!”

Atsumu fumbles in his pocket for the device, careful not to drop his camera. Of course he knows who it is, but it's still menacing to see a completely blank phone screen with just a green button on it.

“Uh…” he deflates, glancing at his phone then back to the distressed reporter. _I can’t go this time! My job is at stake here, ‘Kaashi-kun!_

“Don’t tell me,” Sakusa squeezes his shoulder, “is it more important than this footage?”

The blond slaps the other’s arm away. “I’m not a damn cameraman, Sakusa! I’m a photographer!”

Sakusa blinks in surprise before shaking out of it. “They’re practically the same thing!”

“No?! Mine-” they flinch away from a crash that shakes their whole bodies, “Mine are _still_ images; cameramen have bigger cameras!”

“Many still images make a movie, Miya. Can’t your expensive MSBY camera do the same?” Sakusa drops his shoulders dramatically as a pause from the ruckus stops them. Nothing’s moving, no noise, not even from his phone anymore; the ringing stopped right as Sakusa finished his sentence.

Then it multiplies back as a crash from another thrown car (the same one the minion threw at the building), and they’re both brought back to the moment. Atsumu’s phone starts to ring again, this time the screen displays _Atsumu-san, answer your phone._

 _Akaashi-kun, you scare me sometimes._ “I really need to take this,” Atsumu frowns, handing- no shoving his camera into Sakusa’s hands. “You go ahead and _go to safety_. I’ll meet you back at our building after the fight.”

Sakusa shakes his head disbelievingly “What? No, we-”

“Need to get to safety,” Atsumu says sternly, pointing a finger at his face. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll- look out!”

Atsumu pushes the reporter hard and away from him as a tree trunk lands in front and between them.

He hears a faint shout from the other side. “Miya!”

Atsumu cups his hands to his mouth from behind the tree, feigning his injury.“I-I’m fine! Run, Omi-kun!”

The reporter’s voice cracks. “The ambulance-!”

“Do ya really think the ambulance can come here? Omi, I’ll be fine, just _go!_ ”

He receives almost stunned silence before he hears heavy footsteps run away. 

When he can’t hear the footsteps anymore (and that’s saying a lot since he has a little bit of super hearing), the “tree” flattens out on its side. A voice statics from it as Atsumu brushes off the dust from his jacket nonchalantly. “I saw you shouting at someone from a security camera on the opposite building.”

“Wow,” Atsumu sighs dryly, stretching his arms up. “Hi, ‘Kaashi-kun.”

The tree folds into a small cube, the hologram of Akaashi fritzing in and out in front of him as he picks it up. “Hello, Atsumu-san. We’ll see you at the mansion.”

* * *

The fight went on the same as usual: the good guys won and the bad guys lost. 

Well, obviously there were some mishappenings that he’d rather not say but he will describe what happened in a brief manner.

Galaxy was, surprisingly, the last of the heroes on the mission to arrive, Foxbane (that’s Atsumu) being the first instead. He was able to take out three robots this time and the one minion that was on the street he walked on previously with some back up from, ironically, the hero they were about to make an exclusive article about: Synergy.

“Have ya always been this good at fighting before?” Foxbane grunts as he blocks a blow with a car door. 

Synergy jumps off the side of the building, landing on the robot’s shoulders before grabbing its head and ripping it off. “You’ve sparred with me a million times?!”

Shrugging, Foxbane throws the now dented car door to the side as Synergy lands beside him. “Eh, can’t remember. I think I won most of’em.”

The robot explodes into a pile of ash in front of them. “Maybe it's because you use your physical strength most of the time? It’s about technique when you spar, you know?”

“And part of my technique is using my muscles,” Foxbane shrugs as they turn around to catch up with the others. “Why not use them when you work for them?”

“Sure,” Synergy mumbles as they see Galaxy take out the last minion in his area. From the other side, they see the Black Cobra monsters running from the direction they came from, probably retreating.

“Looks like we got them away faster this time with less damage. They didn’t even have that big of a raid,” Galaxy floats to the ground, squinting at the monsters and resting a hand on his hip.

“All the recent raids have been like this too,” Synergy shrugs. “It’s like they’re trying to keep up the intimidation tactic while they recover from the Terror Titan attack. They’ll probably grow back soon though, but I’m not sure how.”

“He’s right,” Kenma, now a fixed member of communications with Akaashi, dully replies from their earpieces. Akaashi continues for him. “This last battle had about a quarter of the amount of minions and robots from the attack two months ago. They’re all a lot weaker and smaller, which is probably why they retreated so quickly.”

“And why the minion on my street didn’t destroy the car and that building too,” supplies Foxbane, shrugging when the other two heroes raise an eyebrow at him.

Deciding not to stay long in case a reporter’s nearby (some have already scheduled one interview with Synergy and two with Galaxy the week prior), they made their way back to the mansion, aka the Litterbox, Atsumu’s current residency. 

“What took ya so long ta show up, ‘kawa?” Atsumu grins as he plops down on a lounge chair. He, Oikawa and Akaashi were gathered in Akaashi’s suitshop, getting their suits scanned for any damages or tears. Yahaba was here earlier, but had to leave quickly after saying something about his side job, for some mumbled reason.

Oikawa waves his hand dismissively. “I was simply preoccupied, Atsu-chan. I have a life, you know?”

“So do I?” The blond raises an eyebrow as he watches Akaashi type something into his massive computer. “I had to leave my assignment for the fight.”

“I didn’t know you were still in school,” Oikawa smirks as he steps off the scanner.

“Shuddup, ya already know what I do fer a livin’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa pitifully pats his shoulder for him to stand. “It’s your turn.”

Stubbornly, the blond rises from the chair and stands on the scanner, raising his arms in a T. He watches his senior stare at the floor, a fist under his chin like he’s thinking hard. “Got something on yer mind, Oikawa-san?”

Said senior glances at Akaashi for a brief moment before sighing loudly and flopping on the back of the lounge chair. “Mmm, it’s not my place to ask.”

“What is it, Oikawa-san.” Akaashi speaks up for once, not taking his eyes off his screen, sometimes briefly glancing down at his keyboard to hit a few keys. “I’m not fragile.”

 _Oh-_ Atsumu thinks as he bites his lip to contain his laugh. _Gotcha bitch._

Oikawa on the other hand almost looks shocked for a moment before an amused expression relaxes into his face. “Oh, I know you’re not, Aka-chan,” Oikawa breathlessly laughs, rubbing his eyes. “But if you insist. How’s Bokuto?”

Akaashi’s typing pauses in a stutter before returning back full force, and twice as fast. “He’s doing well, Oikawa-san. Why do you ask?”

 _This is awkward,_ Atsumu purses his lips, wiggling his toes. 

Oikawa sighs and leans on the right armrest. “I’m getting nowhere with Iwa-chan-”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. _Ah, typical_.

“and Tetsu’s doing well with Kenma. What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re asking for my advice?” Akaashi asks in a light voice. 

_At least he’s not offended_.

“I mean you and Bo-chan have been together for a while now, I just want a little guidance from an expert.”

Atsumu scoffs quietly to that, straightening his mouth in a line.

“Do you have something to add to that, Atsumu-san?”

At his voice directed at him, the blond stiffens, straightening his back. Oikawa snickers quietly to himself before composing himself. 

“Maybe, um... Just tell’em that ya like him?” Atsumu shrugs. He’s not the best at giving the best advice. Hell, he can’t even follow some of his own.

Akaashi pauses again to turn to Oikawa, who does the same with the same skeptical expression, both turning to Atsumu after. 

The blond blinks under their gazes. “What?”

They glance at each other again with a raised eyebrow before going back to their own thing. They speak at the same time. “Nothing.”

 _I’m bein’ double teamed_ , Atsumu sighs as Akaashi signals for him to step off the scanner.

As he and Oikawa are about to leave, Akaashi places a hand on his shoulder. “Atsumu-san, you’ll understand when you find someone.”

“Wha-”

“I agree with Aka-chan. You’ll understand sooner or later,” Oikawa smiles, patting his other shoulder as the three of them leave for the afternoon.

 _Find someone?_ Atsumu pouts as he stares at the backs of his teammates, who’s quiet banter is already filtered out of his mind. The fact that he’s debating over asking them to just tell him what they were talking about and just letting fate or whatever help him understand is making his head hurt. He’s not stupid, contrary to belief. He just wants to know things, he’s curious, and whatever they’re talking about doesn’t make any sense. He knows a lot of ‘someones’. Just what is ‘someone’?

“Good bye, Oikawa-san, Atsumu-san,” Akaashi nods politely as he enters a cab back to the city. The two of them wave goodbye until the car’s just a dot on the horizon. 

Oikawa spins around with his hands in his pockets, waddling back into the litterbox (the mansion, not actually a litterbox) and leaving Atsumu in the warm afternoon weather.

When he sees a tiny helicopter fly above the towers of the city, a blaring thought enters his mind. _Oh shit, the studio._

Sprinting back into the litterbox, Atsumu flies past Oikawa and into his room, calling up the loopevator and shakily clicking the button that sends him back to the east-edge of the city, back to the studio.

“Hopefully Meian-san doesn’t kill me for not showing up fer the fight,” Atsumu deflates, bracing for the launch. _Or Omi-kun killing me first for showing up perfectly fine._


	2. Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Que the (overdramatized) tragic backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! 
> 
> And guess what? This chapter is basically backstory to the main universe but in Atsumu's POV. There's a lot of time jumping in the narration, but I'll try my best to make sure you know what time you're in（─. ─||）

_About 2 years ago…_

“Hello there.”

The man in front of Atsumu flinches, tensing forward before slowly spinning around, his hand on his chest as if he had a heart attack. “Holy shit. Hi, who are you?”

The guy was shorter than him, all of his bangs swooped to his right, kind of like him, except it's all natural. Probably someone who takes his job seriously from the way he’s dressed and speaks.

“I was about ta ask ya the same thing, stranger,” Atsumu snaps his fingers, pointing at his front door. “Yer kinda standing in the way of my apartment.”

“Oh,” the guy says, glancing down at his watch then back to him with a grimace. “You’re Miya Osamu?”

“No,” Atsumu rolls his eyes at the man tiredly, pulling out his keys to unlock his door. _It’s always for ‘Samu, huh?_ “You’ll have ta wait a few more hours to see him, his shift doesn’t end ‘til ten.”

“Oh…” the guy awkwardly nods, squinting at his watch. 

Atsumu’s about to close his door when he sees the guy still standing there, glancing at his watch and back to him.

“What do ya want? Like his number or somethin’?” Atsumu shrugs his shoulders to his ears, tilting his head at the guy. 

“Um….” The guy glances down, definitely thinking about something way too much.

“Okay, let me grab a paper real quick,” the blond answers for him, turning around when he sees, from the corner of his eye, the guy reaches forward. 

“Uh-!”

“Uh?” Atsumu shakes his head in confusion. _This guy must be insane or something. Why’s he still here?_

“Ugh,” the guy (Atsumu might need to call him something else, this is getting ridiculous. Ridiculous man) rubs his left temple and sighs. “Sorry, I don’t know if your roommate told you, but I’m here on behalf of Oikawa Tooru and I need to ask him if he can… verify a few things. And accept our offer, a pretty good one, if he fits the requirements.”

“Requirements? Verify?” Atsumu leans on his door, skeptical. Is this a real life version of those scammers online? _Damn, those still exist?_

 _I could probably take him down if he’s dangerous_ , he thinks to himself, looking at the guy- ridiculous man’s build. 

“Come in,” Atsumu nods into his apartment, walking away from the entrance to his table. “My brother tells me everything.”

“Brother?” Ridiculous man (damn, that’s a lame-ass nickname) asks, closing the door behind him. He sits across Atsumu.

“Yeah.” _Shit_. He shouldn’t have said that. Shaking that out of his head, he leans forward and folds his hands together. “Why do ya need Osamu? What’s the offer?”

Squinting in suspicion, ridiculous man- holy shit that’s awful- “What’s yer name by the way?”

The guy blinks before raising an eyebrow. “Why should I tell you?”

“Okay then,” Atsumu straightens back, extending his arms, “Oikawa’s minion it is.”

“Shirabu. It’s Shirabu. Please don’t call me that,” he shakes his head, his eyes intent.

Atsumu raises an eyebrow. _He answered that almost instantly. Does this guy work with some mafia with a snotty leader who doesn’t want his name to be used prematurely?_ “Okay, okay,” Atsumu raises his hands, “Sorry to offend you?”

Shirabu sighs. “It’s okay. Um... might as well tell you straight out. Your brother- we’ve been thinking of trying to scout him for our team.”

Atsumu nods, keeping his face flat. _This isn't sketchy at all. Team? Seriously?_

“Or we’re pretty sure it's your brother. We didn’t really do that much research on him to preserve his identity, if your brother refuses.”

“Okay,” Atsumu replies slowly, nodding again. So they didn’t even consider him? Only ‘Samu? Sure, he’s been in other parts of Japan, but he’s been living with ‘Samu for a while now. “So what’s the offer?”

Shirabu stares at him unsure for a moment before dropping it and sighing.“...oh fuck it. Your brother’s a superhero.”

Atsumu blinks, his eyes widening slightly. _Huh._

“I’m sorry you had to hear it from me first,” Shirabu sighs, folding and blocking his mouth with his hands. “or maybe your brother really did tell you he has superpowers. Regardless, your brother has been running around with a mask on his face in our city for a while now, chasing ‘bad guys’ and saving those in danger. It took some time, but we were able to pinpoint your brother’s identity from matching his voice from an interview with Onigiri Miya’s owner.”

Atsumu slowly leans on his left elbow, covering his mouth with his hand. _Thank the gods ‘Samu isn’t here._ He sighs, nodding along and trying to hide his smile. “Okay. So my _brother_ is a superhero. Why do you and this Oikawa Tooru need him on your ‘team’?”

“Oikawa had this brilliant idea of recruiting superheroes into this league of-”

“Justice?” Atsumu perks up.

“...No," Shirabu blinks, stunned momentarily. "League of Heroes… sorry to disappoint.”

_You don’t sound sorry._

“We just want to know what kind of powers he has. From what we’ve seen,” he glances down at his watch again, “he has a decent amount of superstrength, speed, and jumping ability. He’s also pretty good at using whatever he can find and using it to help him fight, so he must be good at wielding any weapon.”

“Of course,” Atsumu cheerfully agrees fakely. _Decent amount? I definitely got even better strength than ‘decent’._ “So ya just need to talk to Osamu to verify if he actually has strength or if he’s using drugs?”

“Well,” Shirabu raises his eyebrows before grimacing in disgust, taking out a piece of paper from his pocket, “that’s one way to put it. If you could tell him to call us, that would be great.”

Atsumu takes the card and inspects it as they both stand up. It’s not even professional, just a number with ‘Oikawa Tooru’ below it. “Really quick, what does he get out of joining yer team?”

Shirabu pats down his jacket. “We’ve only started recruiting people, but we have a pretty nice place to stay and a comfortable salary, though I doubt your brother will need it. He seems to be enjoying himself in his business.”

“Yeah.” _A nice place? Like a headquarters?_ Atsumu nods, glancing at Shirabu, who was already at the front door, sliding on his shoes. _I only moved in a few months ago… I can’t just move again; he’ll be suspicious about me moving into such a nice place._

“And besides-” Shirabu turns around and crosses his arms. “It’s not Osamu with the superpowers, is it?”

Atsumu freezes. _What?_

“It looks like I’ve found the right brother.”

He spins to Shirabu, who’s wearing a smug smirk on his face. “Huh?”

“You could show us how your strength is ‘better than decent’ or any other powers you have when you call us. Does your brother know?”

“I…” he glances at the card then back, “No. He doesn’t know about my hero gig. Did you know this whole time?”

Shirabu shakes his head, “Nope. We really thought it was Osamu, but when you thought ‘I definitely got even better strength than ‘decent’, it became pretty obvious we found the wrong masked hero.”

Atsumu gapes at him. “You can read minds?” 

“Kind of, not always,” he shrugs as the blond approaches him. “I can hear brief stray thoughts sometimes.”

“So… everyone in this ‘league of heroes’ has superpowers?” _There are others like me?_

Shirabu nods, pointing at the card. “Call us and we’ll arrange a time for you to show us what you can do.”

“Yeah,” Atsumu opens the door for him, never straying his sight from the number, memorizing every digit as if they’ll disappear if he looks away. “I just might.”

“Thank you for your time, Osamu’s brother.”

He peels his eyes off the card and blinks at the shorter man. “Atsumu.”

Shirabu raises an eyebrow as he glances over his shoulder.

“It’s Atsumu Miya. Don’t call me that,” he adds in the end, grinning as Shirabu rolls his eyes and walks away.

“League of Heroes, huh?” He says to his empty apartment. Sounds nice. 

—————

It’s still a shock to Atsumu that he’s been in this league for almost two years now. Definitely for longer as a hero in disguise, or vigilante as the comics say. Not even telling ‘Samu that he’d been running in broad daylight with his powers, albeit with a mask that entirely covers his face instead of the simple identity scrambling eye mask, but still. 

When he first got accepted by Oikawa, he was kind of... disappointed? There wasn’t that big of a crime scene (it was still big though, just not as exciting as it is now than what was back then) until the Black Cobra appeared.

They kind of just showed up one day two years ago and devastated the whole city. Almost every building had some sort of damage from the earliest Cobra minions and a sixth of the city’s population was either dead or close to dead. It was… awful, to say the least.

They only retreated after Oikawa, a somewhat new hero to the public at the time, destroyed one of their minions. It imploded on itself and turned to ash, so luckily, they weren’t invincible. But it took forever— almost an hour for him to bring it down. 

Atsumu? Where was he?

He was stuck frozen as he watched the fight on a screen with Osamu. They were hiding with a few others in a safe house (aka an underground garage) and someone in the crowd was projecting the fight from a news source. 

It terrified him to no end. They looked disgusting, even the mechanical ones that ripped the pillars of buildings like they weighed nothing. Those things were monsters, ruthless and erratic.

And Atsumu desperately wanted to be in on the action.

He was jealous. He wanted to be out there, fighting and taking punches with Oikawa. Hell, he was jealous of the damn reporter, out there, talking to the camera about the fight, running around to avoid being hit by debris.

“‘Tsumu.”

The blond glanced at the hand on his shoulder then to his twin. “What?”

He drops his voice to a low whisper so no one hears. “Promise me ya won’t fight out there?” 

Atsumu blinks. He’s about to say some stupid remark when he sees his brother’s stern face. His mouth is pressed in a straight line, a wrinkle between his brows. _He’s actually serious right now?_

Atsumu stares at his hands. 

Of course ‘Samu knows what he’s thinking. They’re twins; telepathy comes as a packaged deal. Not like Shirabu-kun’s telepathy, but more of a feeling. ‘Samu was the first one to figure out he had powers ten years ago just from a fucking hunch. They started showing up during secondary school, definitely weaker than they are now though. ‘Samu helped him control his powers and took the blame when things got broken. 

“Yer crazy. Ya already injure yerself more than the average person!”

That’s what he told him when he said he wanted to use his powers for good and help people. They didn’t talk for a while after that fight (as in an hour, it was getting annoying playing SuperMarioWii solo), but that was where ‘Samu drew the line. 

And of course, Atsumu crossed the line. Undercover. So ‘Samu wouldn’t have to know and didn’t have to worry about him. He was twenty for fucks sake, he can handle himself. After a rough start of hiding his bruises under thick sweaters (even in the summer), he was able to gain some momentum as a solo vigilante until he was recruited. You already know how that happened.

Anyways, after watching the battle on TV, Atsumu promised Osamu that he won’t fight those things in a serious manner, to show that he actually cares. He’s totally gonna break it, but he’ll try to be _extra_ careful for the sake of his brother. How could he not when the aftermath is this bad? 

When they evacuated onto the open streets, almost nothing stood up anymore. It looked apocalyptic almost. The clear and sunny sky mocked the disaster below it, the glass from windows and cars were scattered on the streets like sprinkles on a cake. He even saw an arm limp underneath a ripped out bench. _Maybe it's just a mannequin arm..._

The reporter from earlier, a man with slicked back hair, rushes towards them, careful with his footing so as to not drop his camera and mic.

“Woah! How are ya still alive?!” Atsumu laughs as the man approaches them, catching his breath.

“I have my ways,” the reporter chuckles, repositioning his camera on his shoulder. He was massive, probably a quarter of a meter taller than him. You could practically feel the confidence radiating off him. “Can I ask you two a few questions about your experience from the fight?”

“Uh,” Atsumu glances at his twin, who just shrugs in response. “Sure.”

“Great,” he nods, clicking something on his camera. “Welcome back to the MSBY News coverage of the fight that just took place. I’m Meian Shugo and I’m here with two survivors.”

Atsumu grins as he waves at the camera, Osamu mimicking with a duller wave. 

“So how did you survive the battle in the city?”

“The both of us, with a few others, hid in an underground garage,” Atsumu answers for him, a steady smile on his face.

“Ooh, interesting! How did you all collect there?”

“A few people followed us after we felt the earthquake from our apartment.”

 _Professional so far. This is_ so _cool_.

“Do you think those monsters will be back or is this the end of their terror?”

“Oh, it’s definitely not the end,” Atsumu shakes his head, causing Osamu to nudge his arm with a glare. “Ow? I mean, why would they only come once? What were they going after? They clearly had a number advantage against us, so why did they retreat after one of them was taken down?”

Meian nods along, keeping the camera surprisingly still as he replies. “Those are definitely some questions to consider as we try to rebuild the city and possibly prepare for a second wave of attacks. Thank you for your time, boys.”

 _Boys?_ They both nod their heads down. “Thank you.”

The reporter (Meian?) clicks the same spot on his camera and sighs at his camera. “Hopefully our building isn’t complete rubble. Good luck going back to your apartment.”

“Yeah,” Osamu nods, glancing down at his phone.

“Hey, uh-”

Meian turns around at the blond. “Yes?”

“We were watching ya run around pretty clearly, so they must’ve been out of danger’s way for the most of it.”

“Oh, that’s good! Our building is pretty new; near the east side, the opposite from where those monsters entered.”

“How did you avoid all of… everything?”

“I kept looking up and knew my feet could carry me where I wanted to go,” the reporter shrugs cooly. “It’s all a matter of instincts, I guess.”

 _Instincts… That’s awesome._ “Um, this might be a bad time to ask, but are you guys hiring?”

Meian blinks in surprise. “Uh, I’m not sure. We’ve had a few people come in and out since we’re still new and all, but with this footage, I hope more people come look for us. Here, I could give you the company’s number if you’d like,” he says, placing his camera and mic down carefully.

He punches in a number and hands Atsumu’s phone back to him. “Maybe don’t call right now since we still have to deal with this mess. Call in a week or so if you’re still interested.”

“Totally!” Atsumu grins as Meian saunters away, leaving the two of them in the pile that was their city. 


	3. Cringe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu's caught in multiple ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more exposition then we’re back to the present boyos, I got kind of carried away- I mean Atsumu got carried away talking about himself \\(@_@)/

Soon after the battle, everyone was calling the baddies _the Black Cobra_ from the symbol of a snake in black smoke (creative, I know) drawn in the sky above, darkening the already destroyed streets. Not exactly like the one from the wizard book; it’s not like he cared enough to read the books or watch the movies, but he’s pretty sure wizards don’t exist. Then again, he does live in a world where not only can he make fire appear out of thin air, but others like him exist to save Japan.

Speaking of superheroes, he’s only been in the League of Heroes (LOH) for two months when this first battle happened. He’s gotten a decent sense of who his teammates were, so it was a surprise when Kenma-kun’s machines and Akaashi-kun’s intense research lead to nowhere when they tried tracking and looking for the Black Cobra’s headquarters or its leader. 

And since the League was still new and they didn’t meet up regularly, they were pretty unorganized. They couldn’t call anyone the first time because they didn’t have a set phone number, only Oikawa and Kuroo (his fling?) had the direct line to the litterbox. Akaashi only began _designing_ , not producing, the new suits for everyone by then and only finished a prototype mask, which Oikawa used in the fight to protect his identity. He was still wearing his street clothes too, not having any time to change into something less obvious from the surprise attack from those monsters. 

Oikawa looked awful afterward. He mostly fought defensively—if you consider flying around the monster, somewhat strategically shooting beams(?) at it, and trying to knock it over defense—which was why the fight took so long. He had a few injuries, mostly in his arms and shoulders since he was focusing a lot on throwing his body weight into his attacks. Yahaba-kun’s only been working with them for a few weeks or so, but he was already put into work for his healing powers. Atsumu’s been working alongside him too. 

And it sucks.

He, Yahaba, and Shirabu were all cast to be the apprentices; sidekicks, backup, juniors, if you will. Their seniors, besides Oikawa, in the future of Black Cobra attacks would be switched and sent out instead of the three of them and it sucked.

The three of them would train in the litterbox's massive training gym and spar if they happen to go at the same time (all their schedules were different, so it’s rare). He mostly sparred with Shirabu, sometimes with Semi or Sugawara or Yahaba if they were available and once with Akaashi. That might’ve been the scariest sparring session ever in his entire career, but he would never admit that outloud. And despite having his own room in the litterbox, he was almost never there since he still had his shared lease with ‘Samu. 

Skipping an entire year—yeah, he’s surprised too. It took _that_ long. He’s still livin’ a double life, for cryin’ out loud. 

Actually, let’s back up a bit really quickly. 

So besides this League of Heroes gig, he also applied at MSBY News a week after the fight, just like Meian-san told him to. They’ve only been active for about three years or so since their reopening; something about a crash of viewers causing them to shut down for some time temporarily. Despite his passion for editing and photography, he was placed in the writing department for a week, just to see how he would do. To put it simply, he would’ve been fired if he applied for that position.

Anyways, his ass was saved by Meian-san that week; his words are extremely inspiring and persuasive. It wasn’t just him too; Bokuto was also there… Atsumu’s not really sure how or when he joined, but he was there before him. There wasn’t a superhero department right away either. Even when it was created, he wasn’t immediately promoted unlike the ever energetic Bokuto and stayed in the general department for another few months. It was only until one day when he came back with a few pictures from a pretty intense fight during one of his assignments that he actually impressed the chief enough to promote him there. 

Now you must be thinking, _you’re a superhero aren’t you? And you’re in the superhero department? Isn’t that just going to make things harder for you to keep your identity?_

Well one, that’s a lot of questions and two, haven’t you seen that spider comic? This is the _ideal_ situation to be in. It’s like killing two eagles with rock: he’ll be able to know where the battle could be and he’ll have an excuse for everything since it’s his job to go into danger. He even had to sign a contract saying he can’t sue the company if he gets injured or killed. And besides, if he can keep his vigilante identity a secret from his _twin_ for this long, there’s no way anyone would try to find out here or even care. 

Putting that to the side, a lot of other irrelevant stuff happened. Like him getting promoted to the LOH field crew(yay!), his twin almost finding about his LOH gig three times(oops), Kita-san, their tennent, finding one of his extra suits in a storage closet (he can’t explain this one), and almost being fired for an extremely dangerous stunt that could’ve cost MSBY News a shit ton in damages and injuries (he can explain this one). All of this and more happened within a year and now that almost another year passed, he can properly say that life is going pretty good. 

“Where the _hell_ is Miya!”

Atsumu cringes behind the door to his department. 

Good might be a stretch.

Another voice pipes up, “Atsumu-san’s probably getting some medical help!”

 _No, Shouyou-kun!_ Atsumu squeezes his fists. Maybe if he quickly runs to the restroom for toilet paper-

A gasp from a third person stops him. “No wait, what if he’s in the ER!! Bones broken and tubes stuck into him and all that!”

 _Bokkun!? Yer makin’ this worse!_ Atsumu deflates onto his knee, a hand sliding down the wall. There’s no way he can go in there now. Back at the crash, he really tried not to sound like he was in a broken bones kind of pain, but more of like a ‘I got stuck’ pain. But now thanks to his supposed ‘friends’, he can’t just show up perfectly fine—that would just lead to more questions that he definitely doesn’t have good answers to.

“He’s not.”

 _Omi?_ Atsumu lifted his head.

“I called the victims unit and they didn’t have him there.”

Atsumu’s eyes widen as he stands back up. _Oh shit._

“Which means he either managed to get the tree off him and went home to treat himself, was taken hostage by the Black Cobra, or faked the whole thing and blissfully went home.”

 _This is a fucking disaster._ Atsumu sighs, dropping his head. Which was right where the door was. 

He must’ve walked under a ladder or something because the next moment, he hears the three of them shuffle before being met with silence. _Uh oh._

Slowly, Atsumu backs away from the door. He’ll deal with this in the morning. Or maybe never; maybe he’ll just change news companies or drop the entire news thing. Luckily, their department is the closest to the stairs, so he tip-toes his way there, getting a hand on the handle before he hears a cough behind him. 

He straightens his back, a deep grimace on his face. 

“Miya.”

So close. He was _this_ close to freedom.

—————

The rookie orange-haired reporter pushes himself off a random chair next to the door. He's pretty new but he sure is energetic. “Atsumu-san, we heard what happened from Omi-san.”

“And it seems like I was right about that last part,” Omi continues with a bored tone, making his way back to his office. 

Atsumu glares at the back of his head. “So what if ya were? It’s not like the other two options were anything _but_ plausible.” 

“Ignore him Tsum-tsum,” Bokkun sighs, patting the blond’s shoulder. How are they even friends, they do completely different jobs. “You should’ve seen him earlier after the fight.”

“If looks could kill,” Sho-kun says under his breath, elbowing Atsumu’s side. “He was just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Somehow I doubt it,” Atsumu says, showing a weak smile. _N_ _ow that's an optimist. Why am I friends with two optimists._ “But I’d rather deal with Omi than Meian-san.”

Just the thought of their head department anchor makes the three of them shiver. _Does this make me an optimist then._

He waves off his coworkers, trailing behind the reclusive rookie reporter to his small office, leaning on the door frame. 

It’s disgustingly clean, even the piles of paper on his desk look perfect. He has standing lights tucked in the corner for online interviews, but other than that, it's just a desk and a curtained window. “Ya know, if ya added a little more color other than black and yellow, this place might actually look livable.”

“I have plants?” Omi squints up at him. He waves his arm to the two(2) plants behind him and a small cactus on his desk (it fits). “And besides, I don’t live here, I work here.”

“It’s basically the same thing,” Atsumu mutters as he closes the door behind him, nervously sitting on the chair in front of Omi’s desk. “So didja tell Meian-san or…”

“Why should I?” Omi scoffs, turning back to his computer. “You always throw yourself into danger anyway.”

It almost looked like he was _concerned_ for a moment, but there’s just no way, so Atsumu throws that thought to the side. He crosses his arms in relief, leaning back. “Oh, well that’s one hurdle down.”

Omi deadpan stares at him before typing on his computer.

“Um, anyways,” Atsumu continues. “Who covered the fight today?” He didn't see anyone in his side of the city today, despite being the closest to the MSBY building than the other heroes. 

“Hinata-san,” Omi answers simply, grabbing a folder from under his desk. He sifts through it, the papers being the only sound in the room. 

"Do you know which hero?"

"Synergy."

 _Oh, he wasn't that far... where did Sho-kun go after he_ _showed up..._

Atsumu stares up at the ceiling, fiddling with his fingers as the silence basically drowns them. _Wow. Great conversation, Omi._ He raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Omi continues to sift through his folder, pausing to take out a document. 

Atsumu peeks down at the reporter, who was now looking between the document and his computer. “What about our assignment?”

“It was rescheduled to tomorrow,” Omi replies, staring at an empty space on his desk before quickly typing on the keyboard. It almost reminded him of Akaashi’s typing, just less aggressive and louder; MSBY doesn’t have screen keyboards afterall. 

_Maybe Omi’s not up for friendly conversation_. Atsumu’s already got the answers he needed to safely traverse the floor and it doesn’t sound like Omi’s mad at him, just kind of annoyed. _I should just let his mood pass._ “Right…” Atsumu nods awkwardly, pushing himself off the very stiff, probably unused chair. “I guess that’s it then-”

“Did the tree actually land on you?”

Atsumu pauses right before opening the door. He turns slightly back at the reporter, who’s stopped typing and now staring at him with an unreadable expression. “No,” Atsumu shakes his head, a slight smile on his face. “It didn’t.”

He clicks the door closed behind him, unknowing that the said reporter breathed a silent sigh of relief.

——————— 

He ended up getting a lecture from Meian-san anyway.

“You’re supposed to be the _superior_ in that situation, Miya! You should know how we work by now! He’s strong enough to roam near the battle, that’s why superhero department reporters have the badge! And you know how Sakusa-kun is.”

 _I actually don't, believe it or not,_ Atsumu rolls his eyes. He’s in his own office, leaning his cheek on his fist like some angsty teenager. _It’s all pretty surface level, if I really think about it._

The older man sighs, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and finger. “How are you only the second least likely to do something stupid.”

“I’m surprised too, that poll was definitely rigged,” Atsumu shrugs. It’s true, Thomas, a transfer from America, being the first, only committing a small form of arson on the third floor because none of the coffee machines were working at 2 am on a Tuesday. Anyways- “Look,” the blond eases back onto his gamer chair and crosses his arms. “It was a dire situation. I panicked and I told Omi to run to safety; that’s what sane people do, reporter’s hero badge or not.”

“...”

Having a stare-down with the head of the department shouldn’t be that scary. He’s just another human; a human without superpowers even. In all honesty, he could take him out easily with his strength alone. Still…

Yeah, he’s not winning this one. The blond sighs, “I’m in a lot of trouble, huh.”

“... No.”

Atsumu blinks up in surprise.

“Not that much trouble, anyway,” Meian-san says, shaking his head. “You’ve been in the superhero department for almost a year now, compared to Sakusa-kun’s six months. Not to mention, he doesn't really like doing outside interviews for our company and was immediately interrupted by a Black Cobra raid. You should’ve seen him when he ran into the department earlier; he was a mess.”

 _He ran all the way back here?_ Now that’s news to Atsumu. Why didn’t he just go to a Kozume foundations safe house? It was way closer than their building. Maybe it’s his ‘I don’t like crowds’ thing. Omi didn’t even look that shaken up when he saw him earlier. 

“You can leave early, since your assignment has been rescheduled,” Meian-san finishes, opening his office door and waving behind him. “Maybe look over some things with Sakusa before you go.”

“Yes sir,” Atsumu nods, watching his boss turn a corner. He’s already got his office computer open with a Word document filled to the brim with notes and old articles from other Museum of Heroes interviews. He could probably add a small note about the battle since Synergy fought today. 

_Ugh, the fight_. It’s not like it was hard, like someone said earlier. He really did kick those monsters asses for a real one, they were just… disturbing. To look at. Like they weren’t made correctly or someone poured acid on them before sending them off; which isn’t the case, they didn’t have any acid, don’t worry. If they looked nasty before, these looked just as gross but also pitiful. 

A small green flag appears on the document. Omi.

Atsumu doesn’t realize the end of his mouth tilting up as the green marker types in a few words. ‘Mention the appearance of Synergy from the day before.’ the note says. Great minds think alike. 

_Maybe I should say hi,_ Atsumu thinks as he clicks on the same list as the green marker, his being red. ‘i was just about to write that in omiomi’, he types. 

|

The green marker continues to blink mockingly back. Maybe he isn’t looking at his screen? Atsumu slaps his forehead. _Oh, what am I sayin’, he’s practically the damn computer at this point._ Deciding to stop being a moron for once, he deletes his sentence, only for the green marker to type in ‘I guess I beat you to the punch.’.

The blond pauses briefly. He scoffs at his screen. ‘i was already in the doc before you?’

‘Getting here first doesn’t mean you won the race, Miya.’, the green marker remarks. 

“Ha!” Atsumu slips out. He shakes his head as he deletes his last question and types in a new one. ‘why do you gotta be so blunt omi :(‘

The green marker does the same. ‘Wow, you write the same way you speak.’

‘so do you? maybe add some personality in your texts’

‘Why? That would take too much time.’

‘actually, im shortening the amount of time by texting this way,’ Atsumu shakes his head matter-of-factly, even though Omi can’t see him. 

_Why? That would take too much time._ |

The green marker blinks back at him with no reply. Atsumu leans back on his chair, crossing his arms and grinning smugly. _Oh yeah, I definitely won this time, Omi-kun._

At least he’s sort of talking to him now. He only saw him half an hour ago, and the battle was two hours ago. Omi’s gotta be over his little moody mood. 

When he sees that the green marker hasn’t moved in three minutes, Atsumu sighs and decides to call it quits for that conversation. He highlights their small banter and deletes it, the green marker blinking in the same space as his red one. _It’s like Christmas_ , Atsumu briefly thinks before saving and closing the document. He’s allowed to go home early, so why would he stay longer than he needed to be? 

Packing up is the easy part, leaving, on the other hand, could really be a toss up. Who’ll he bump into: a passing Sho-kun or a stop from Bokkun? How long will they talk for: a fleeting minute or 2 hours, suddenly laughing their asses off in one of their offices? 

He’s fine with both, it’s not like he has anywhere else to be. Before closing his door behind him, he scans the halls.

Empty.

Not even their cameraman, Barnes, brewing his afternoon second coffee was in sight. 

Huh _._ _Sho-kun must be looking over some stuff with Meian-san for the coverage earlier... maybe Bokkun’s yappin’ about with Akaashi-kun._ Shrugging, he checks his phone’s notifs (as if he didn’t spend an entire hour reloading it for new content after thirty minutes of catching up before Meian-san came) before he hears another door click closed. 

He glances behind him, making eye contact with the green marker himself. 

For a moment, they silently stare at each other before Omi starts walking towards him. Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “Leaving so soon, Omi-Omi? Thought ya were going to lock yerself in there for at _least_ another eight hours!”

“Shut up. I already told you, I don’t live in my office,” Omi grumbles, nodding his head in thanks at the blond when he opens the door for him. “And besides, I need to eat lunch.”

“Oh? I could probably grab some food too,” _even though it's 5:30…_ It’s basically dinner at this point, the sun’s already going down. End of winter into spring is weird like that. He opens the next door to the building’s stairs, tightening his scarf since for some reason the stairways are always freezing, no matter the season. 

“I wasn’t inviting you to lunch,” Omi squints at him in disgust. “I eat alone.”

“Seriously?” Atsumu laughs, walking down ahead of the reporter. “Well I guess that makes sense.”

“Does it now,” Omi mutters under his breath. 

“I bet ya don’t have a lot of friends, Omi-kun,” The blond sighs in pity. 

“I have enough friends.”

Atsumu sends a look of _‘What?’_ at the taller man, who just shrugs in response. They make their way down to the bottom of the building in somewhat comfortable silence (not for Atsumu, but for Omi) before finally leaving the building, the warm, fresh air settling into their lungs after being in an office for that long (not for Omi, but for Atsumu).

“I knew ya had a little smidge of a heart in there,” Atsumu smiles, bumping the other man’s elbow.

He squints at their contact. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone told me about yer little burst in earlier. They all said ya looked so worried about me,” he says, giving Omi a thoughtful look.

“Everyone isn’t Hinata and Bokuto,” Omi rolls his eyes, turning away and walking right.

“Still!” Atsumu throws his arms up, watching his coworker’s back as he takes out his phone and headphones. He pops one wired earplug ( _so old school, Omi-Omi_ ) into his ear, letting his hair cover it up. Even though the reporter can’t see him anymore, the blond drops his arms dramatically, jutting his lips into a frown.

Despite the warm evening, Atsumu doesn’t remove his scarf, finding comfort in shrugging his ears into the soft fabric. A few people breeze past him as he stares at the barren trees. _The litterbox is pretty far from here_ , he sighs. He’d need to take a bus soon or maybe he can just call up one of Kenma’s self driving cars… Wait no, his turn is tomorrow; Yahaba already used it today anyways.

 _So he listens to music on his way home?_ Atsumu wonders to himself as he walks backwards in the other direction. _He needs to be careful, it’s not safe during sun down hours. It’s the perfect time for swipers-_

“Augh!” Atsumu blurts out as two pairs of arms grab him and pull him to a side alley ( _why?? do they still have these???_ ). The last thing he sees before a blindfold covers his eyes is the alert turn of one grumpy reporter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irony is Atsumu's enemy ;)


	4. Blurry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Atsumu has a lot more to learn about Omi than he thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm :') with this chapter. 
> 
> It's a tiny bit longer than usual, but that's because I ended up writing somewhat unimportant things, plot wise. I haven't been this stumped by math in a *very* long time.

Yeah, remember that ‘big crime scene’? 

So there’s actually two different kinds of crime groups: the legit mafia organizations and the hero attention squads. The second one doesn’t sound as bad, but you’d be surprised how dangerous they can be. Like their name implies, they capture anyone and everyone in the most flamboyant way possible just to get the attention of their favorite hero. Maniac fans, if you will.

Foxbane can get out of this easily. Of course he can, he’s one of the superheroes afterall. But right now, he’s Atsumu, MSBY News photographer for the superhero department. He’s a no one in his capturer’s minds.

So he pretends to struggle against them, these surprisingly buff dudes who wrapped his arms with tape and gagged him. 

“Ha! We got’em!” Thug one cackles, wrapping another layer of duct-tape around his wrists. “This one’s gotta get Foxbane’s attention for sure!”

_ You definitely got my attention, _ Atsumu retorts to himself, letting thug number two throw him over his shoulder. 

“To block 24?”

Block 24 is the most popular H.A. spot after the first capturing on the same date, February 4th. Akaashi set up cameras on that block to quickly resolve each capture. It was a really popular way to get their attention until too many people did it (obviously), so now it’s illegal. Only those who don’t care about their freedom or those who plan too much to get away with it would do such a thing.

Ironically, they’re with their favorite hero, but not really. He can’t really show up to deal with them while also being the hostage. 

_ Damn. Do I actually have to humiliate myself in front of… who’s watching the 24 cam right now? Kenma? _ He thinks as the thugs start jogging towards the opposite side of the alley.  _ Maybe he’ll see me before we reach block 24- _

“Hey!”

_ No. _

The thugs stop with a grunt, spinning fast enough to give Atsumu a headache. Or maybe it’s from the voice that just shouted out at them.  _ Not like this, not like this- Who in their right mind would chase after H.A. capturers? It’s safer to just let them do whatever and let the heroes handle this! _

“Oooh, who do we have here?” Thug two rumbles darkly, adjusting the shoulder carrying his captive. “Pretend you didn’t see anything here, curly.”

The younger of the thugs takes out what sounds like a knife and throws it in the air(?). “But we can’t have any witnesses, now can we?” Thug one says to Thug two, his footsteps speeding away towards the voice at the end of the alley.

_ Okay, this was fun, but play-time’s over. _ Atsumu thinks as he swings one of his legs up and into Thug two’s thigh, causing them to fold in pain. In a panic, he pulls the eye cover off, sprinting towards the frozen reporter. He rips the tape around his wrists in half and spits out the gag, catching up to the scrawnier one easily and tackling him to the ground. 

“Get outta-!” Atsumu shouts when he glances up, only for the reporter to be mere inches away from the two of them, his arm reaching out beyond him. “-here?”

In a blink of an eye, Omi’s on the opposite side of them, a tear through Atsumu’s jacket and a knife in his gloved hand. The larger thug growls as they approach the three of them. 

Atsumu pins the scrawny thug’s arms behind his back as he watches Omi jump to his feet, spinning the knife in his hand before gripping the handle, the blade pointing at the approaching thug. “I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you.”

“Your flashy tricks aren’t gonna get you anywhere,” Thug two taunts menacingly, continuing his approach.

_ Those words just came straight from a comic! _ Atsumu thinks as he drops his knee on Thug one’s leg, his eyes never leaving the impending match.  _ Wow. His face mask kind of fits here. I’ve never seen Omi fight before-! _

Something drops onto Thug two’s shoulder, a flash of bright light shocking the life out of the large man. The two MSBY workers flinch as the buffer guy drops to the ground. Another sound of feet follows right after, landing nearby. 

Nothing, not even a small box was found near the body from where they stood.  _ Which only means one thing _ , Atsumu sighs as Omi backs towards him cautiously. He feels something bump his hand from the thug’s wrists, causing him to gasp. 

“What?” Omi spins to face him.

“I, uh…” Atsumu places his hands on his hips as Akaashi alias Silver quietly clicks a pair of handcuffs around them. “I can’t believe that dude just passed out!”

“Didn’t you see the light? He was electrocuted,” Omi squints at him, lowering the knife. “I’m gonna check to see if he’s alive.”

“He is,” Atsumu answers too fast, causing Omi to stutter in his steps. 

“How do you know?”

“Uh…” he draws the vowel out, glancing at every corner. “You can see him breathin’ from here?” He’s smiling, but it’s definitely obvious that he’s lying.

Omi shrugs his whole body in confusion. Probably ignoring his coworker’s stupid blurt, he turns to Thug two and goes to investigate.

Just as Atsumu’s about to sigh in relief, he feels a light smack on his shoulder. He flinches, but at least he doesn’t make a sound.

“You can let him go,” Silver’s voice whispers beside him, shaking Thug one’s lifeless body. “I neutralized him.”

“Ya killed him?” Atsumu breathes back, his eyes widening as he stands up.

“No.” Atsumu can imagine the look Silver must be giving him. “He’s asleep and harmless, that’s what neutralized means.”

“Oh. Is he down too?” Atsumu nods at Thug two, who is just kicked by Omi. 

“Yes,” Silver answers, also kicking Thug one’s limp body. “Leave these two to me.”

“Wait, how’d ya find us?”

“Um… someone… was yelling?”

He can’t see Akaashi, so he doesn’t know what he looks like, but he can tell from the waver in his voice that he was definitely here on accident.  _ I probably know who’s got 'em running to MSBY, _ He smirks at the empty space. “Is it Bokkun-”

“Shut up!” An invisible hand covers his mouth, silencing him. The blond tries grabbing the other’s arm only to slap it away.

“Uh, okay? Sorry fer botherin’ ya,” Atsumu mutters under his breath, patting the invisible hero’s back before approaching the reporter.  _ Man, they’re such a weird couple. _

“I didn’t know ya knew how to use knives, Omi-kun,” Atsumu starts off, nodding at the blade in the other’s hand. He crosses his arms and leans back on the wall right behind him.

“I didn’t know you could rip six layers of duct-tape just like that,” Omi retorts, placing the knife beside Thug two’s body. He peels away his black gloves and stuffs them in his pockets, reaching for his phone. “Sorry about your jacket.”

Now that he mentioned it, it was sort of getting breezy at his side. He lifts his torn jacket and inspects the cut. Besides the top of the slit, the fabric didn’t have any stray ends, just a clean cut straight through. This was one of his favorite jackets, despite it being from the MSBY company. Akaashi’s pretty good with fixing clothes, maybe he can ask for a simple repair? He nods at the knife on the ground. “How’d ya know that he was gonna stab me?”

“The blade was already facing you and you weren’t holding down that arm,” he answers, swiping through his phone to his calling app.

“Woah,” Atsumu shoots forward, snatching his phone between his jacket fabric. “Why do we need ta call the police? We could just leave’em here for them ta find, it’s not like they’re wakin’ up any time soon.”  _ And Silver’s already handling them, don’t want gettin’ the PD involved fer nothin’. _

“Are you stupid? Of course we need to report them to the police,” Omi glares at him, reaching for his phone.

But Atsumu turns away, pinching Omi’s phone in place as he strides back to their side of the alleyway. It’s the perfect bait as Silver picks up the second thug, the large man looking like he’s floating in the air. The first one’s already out of sight, probably on the roof. “Nah, they’ll be fine. Look, they’re not even there.”

_ Wait- _

Omi pauses to look behind him as Silver jumps out of frame- er sight.  _ Phew. _ “What… where?” He looks up at the empty and darkening sky. 

“Yup, they’re nowhere,” Atsumu shrugs, “Must’ve been yer imagination, Omi.” He bumps Omi’s arm and hands him his phone. 

Skeptically, he takes his phone before walking past him, picking up his bag from the ground with relative ease. “Yeah, I guess they were.”

“Wait, um,” Atsumu catches up to him. “Maybe I should walk with ya until the next bus stop. Just in case any H.A. guys are still active.”

“H.A?” the reporter raises an eyebrow. “Is that what they’re called?”

“Hero’s attention squad, ever heard of them?”

“Well obviously,” he says, rolling his eyes, “I’ve just never heard them be called H.A. before.”

“Well, ya heard it from me first then,” Atsumu shrugs, matching the other's pace.

_ This is kind of mundane _ , Atsumu thinks as a silence settles between them. He pats his sides for his phone, finding it on his back left instead of his front right (thanks, Akaashi) and clicks it on. He squints at the time. “Damn, that took like. Ten minutes ta get over,” he muses out loud. 

Omi grunts in reply, glancing down at his own phone. 

_ Yikes. What is this, a funeral? No need to be so quiet, Omi-omi, no one died. _ “Hey uh,” Atsumu starts again after another moment of silence, kicking a rock forward. “What ya said back there? That was pretty badass.”

There are fewer people now, which means he heard the taller man’s huff of amusement. Atsumu glances up at him, a slight raise in his eyebrows. “Yeah, it felt right to use it there.”

A grin spreads across the blond’s face. “You totally got that from a film, didn't cha?”

“And if I did?” Omi squints at him, his shoulders shrugging up. 

“Then that makes ya as much of a nerd as I am,” he yawns, stretching his arms up to his fingertips. He takes a second to blink, noticing a bus stop a block away. Probably a five minute walk at best. “Is that why you decided to be a superhero reporter?”

“Is that why you decided to be a superhero photographer?” Omi mirrors back, eyes making their way back to his phone. He has one of those black screen protectors, so Atsumu can’t really see what he’s doing from the side. He was lucky he was behind him earlier.  _ Ha! Luck, who would’ve thought. _

“Don’t repeat what I asked you,” Atsumu frowns, deciding to lean his face next to the other’s phone, attempting to catch the other’s attention. “Come on, what got  _ the _ Sakusa Kiyoomi into the superhero news business?”

Omi blinks in surprise, pausing to stare at him. The street lights turned on a few moments ago, the harsh white light beaming into Atsumu’s face, making it harder to see the reporter’s expression. After a second, he continues walking, avoiding Atsumu’s head and grunting out, “It doesn’t matter.”

The blond straightens, raising an eyebrow. “Of course it matters, everyone’s gotta have a motive,” he says, catching up to him.

“Then it’s none of your business,” Omi counters. 

“Right…” 

“Well ya already know why  _ I _ wanted to be a superhero photographer,” Atsumu says after another moment of silence. They pass another identical bush with two bumps on its corners, making it look like a cat.  _ What is this, does Kenma really control all the city landscape or something? _

“Sure,” Omi shrugs.

“Sure?” Atsumu turns to him skeptically. “I could tell ya again-”

“No,” Omi stops him, glaring. “I don’t need to know more about how Meian-san talked to some kids.”

He squints back at him. “I was 20?” 

“Really?” Omi’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before looking away. “Wow.”

“Wha- how old did you think I was?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs defensively, “What year were you born?”

“‘95?”

“Oh, wow, you’re old.”

Atsumu coughs out a laugh. “Okay then, how old are you??”

Omi raises an eyebrow skeptically. “I’m 21?”

“Seriously? Yer barely a year younger than me!”

“See? Old.”

“Then don’t be rude to the elderly!” Atsumu throws his arms in the air, unknowingly startling a couple on the other side of the street. “Show some respect!”

“Respect is  _ earned _ ,” Omi bites back, raising his chin to look down at him. “And besides, I-...”

Omi stops, his face souring as they continue to walk closer and closer to the bus stop.

Atsumu raises an eyebrow, curious by the sudden silence. “You..?” 

“Nevermind.”

“No, not nevermind. Tell me, tell me; that’s how conversations work, Omi-kun.”

The reporter glances at him warily. 

“You can trust me, believe it or not,” Atsumu sighs, leaning his head back. The sky’s pitch black now and the wind’s starting to pick up. He tries pulling his jacket closer for warmth when one side shifts too easily.  _ Oh right. The tear. _

“...I’m turning 22 this month.”

“Oh? “ Atsumu glances up at him for a moment. He nods and goes back to his ruined jacket. “Happy early birthday then?” Damn, it even went through his shirt? How sharp was that knife? How is he not bleeding his guts out, good grief.

“That’s it?”

Atsumu looks back at the reporter once more, a weird look in his half covered face. “That’s it,” he shrugs awkwardly. What else is he supposed to say? Good luck surviving another year? That he’s gonna need it for this kind of job? “I mean, that’s not really anything surprising? Age is just a number. Also, why the hell did you cut through my jacket?”

“You were too close to the knife? You were in the way? I don’t know,” Omi pulls away defensively. 

“You cut through my shirt!” Atsumu spins around to show the clean slit in his clothing, carefully walking backwards. “If I didn’t have a shirt on, I would’ve been sliced alive by ya, and that’s a criminal offence, Omi-kun.”

For a brief moment, the reporter’s eyes widen slightly before fixing back forward with an even stormier gaze. “I’m careful with this kind of stuff, Miya.”

“Yeah, of course ya are,” he sighs defeatedly, swinging around and accepting the coming drop in temperature. He’s got pyrokinesis anyways, why is he even complaining? 

A rock flings in front of him. “I can pay for the jacket repair if you’re so bent out of shape about it. I’m surprised the fabric didn’t rip when you tore through the duct tape earlier.”

Atsumu has the audacity to grin at him, though when has he never had the audacity. “Yer still stuck on that, Omi-omi?” 

“It’s duct-tape!” Omi’s face scrunches to impossible limits. “ _ Layered _ duct-tape. It didn’t even look like you struggled to rip it off?”

_ Why’s he turning red? _ Atsumu raises an eyebrow in amusement. _ Is he that mad or something? _

“Ugh, anyways,” Omi turns away ( _ embarrassed? _ ) with a roll of his eyes. “if you could do that, why did you let those guys take you away?”

“It’s better to just let the heroes handle things,” Atsumu shrugs, slipping off his jacket and tying it so the back covers the rip.

“They can’t do everything.”

“I know.”  _ Oh  _ **_boy_ ** _ do I know that, Omi-kun _ , Atsumu thinks. Life isn’t all sunshines and rainbows, even for heroes.

He watches Omi’s eyes glaze away before returning to him. “What are you doing? You look stupid.”

The rip was more or less reached to his armpit area, but luckily he wore a loose short sleeved shirt so it can just hang over the tear. And yeah, it looks kind of stupid, but he’d rather look stupid than have his side exposed to cold air. “Covering the rip? The bus ride isn’t that long.”

There’s something unreadable about Omi’s expression, but there’s still that patented  _ ‘are you kidding me’ _ look. Atsumu might need to pay for his forehead wrinkle surgery if he keeps this up. “And the thugs chose to capture  _ you _ ?” Omi stresses the last word, his voice sounding half mocking.

“I-” Atsumu spreads a hand on his chest. “You don’t think I’m worthy to be captured?”

“If I say yes, will you stop having a conversation with me?”

_ Will you? _ Omi’s eyes challenge him, the tip of his eyebrows slightly raised. 

A blink brings Atsumu back to that night, an uncovered grin in place of the mask. He’s only decent with words, but there’s that same suffocatingly giddy feeling in his chest that he felt that night. The one that spreads around your collarbone and makes you want to scrunch your whole body up. And his phone’s right in his pocket. He could capture this right now. He can’t see if Omi’s smiling or not, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. Atsumu could capture his captivating expression right this instant.

“No,” Atsumu shakes his head, slowing down as they reach the bus stop.  _ No _ , he says to Omi’s challenge and no to that picture. Pictures can only capture a thousand words, but that’s not enough for this moment. A picture couldn’t possibly capture what he’s…what he’s….. feeling. 

_ That’s new _ . “I like botherin’ ya.”

They stop under the vacant bus stop sign, a street light shining down on them. He’s kind of glad people still use cars in the city even with all the Black Cobra attacks or else this silence would’ve been too quiet. He hates the silence, always gotta have some white noise or a fan or just the window open to hear the chatter of people or a single car pass by. 

After another moment, Atsumu turns away, stretching his arms forward so his jacket doesn’t fall down. “Well, uh, thanks for helpin’ back there, Omi-kun,” Atsumu nods awkwardly, Omi flinching at his sudden movement. “Like I said earlier, the heroes could’ve just handled that, but it was pretty cool seein’ ya be all ‘ _ I’m gonna take ya down’ _ at that big guy.”

“Uh, yeah,” Omi shrinks, glancing away before his eyes catch on something behind Atsumu. “No problem.”

A bus parks right in front of the two of them, the doors sighing open a moment after it settles down. 

“I’m gonna have to owe ya ‘lunch’ later since ya missed it,” he quotes with his fingers, bumping the side of the open bus door as he walks backwards. He quickly adjusts himself before waving at Omi, barely catching a small wave back before the doors shut. He stands there for a moment before he hears a little grunt behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder, a woman probably in her thirties raises an eyebrow. 

_ Oh wait, the bus driver. _

He nods his head in apology before finding a seat on the opposite side of the bus, the farthest he could be from the sidewalk. The bus jerks suddenly even before he could sit down, not to mention his jacket falling off right when he found a random seat. There weren’t many passengers, just a few people in casual suits and a college student in the very back, but he still got embarrassed when he yelped at the sudden cold of the metal walls touching his skin. 

_ What’s pyrokinesis good for if it can’t even protect me from devil metal, _ Atsumu scoffs as he puts his stuff down. 

He can’t help it, though, when his eyes make its way back to where Omi last stood- er is standing? The bus isn’t that tall; he can still see the top of Omi’s curly hair. Maybe he’s just too tall. He’s looking down at something, probably his phone.

As if he could tell he was being looked at, Omi glances up. Atsumu flinches before realizing Omi can’t see him, the reporter’s head turning left and right before going back to his phone.

The bus finally takes off after that.

Which means Atsumu can relax, letting the passing scenery distract and sooth him. He loves being a passenger rider. He can appreciate the blurry buildings and quiet filler sounds as much as he wants without worrying about… things that have to do with driving. He can drive, just for the record, but still.

Except he can’t stop thinking.

  
  
_ Since when did I care if a moment is perfect  _ **_not_ ** _ to take a damn picture, _ Atsumu sinks into his seat, streetlights fading in and over him and his ripped jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')


	5. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tour of the Museum of Heroes from both the public eye and Atsumu’s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i clowning atsumu for catching feelings? you tell me

“Watch the ledge, Miya.”

The sound of someone falling on hard pavement from behind stops Omi in his tracks. He glances over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing in judgement.

Behind him, Atsumu picks himself up and wipes off mini rocks from his arms. “Geez, thanks for the tip, Omi-kun,” he tells the other in a flat tone. 

“You’re welcome,” Omi spins around, not waiting for the other to catch up to him.

_ Ooookay then, _ Atsumu sighs down at his camera. It doesn’t look broken, at least.  _ So much for not acting suspicious. _

It’s currently the next afternoon, just like Meian-san told them they were rescheduled to. The sky is cloudier, not like the rainy kind but the fluffy one. Like a typical spring afternoon.

It’s not as hot as yesterday either, which is nice. He’s got a different jacket on; it’s thinner to compensate with the weather and the unfortunate truth that it usually takes three-ish days to get jackets fixed if you hire someone. But this is Akaashi we’re talking about (three minutes. It took him  _ three minutes _ ). It would look suspicious if he wore the same ripped jacket anyways. 

Omi doesn’t have his mask on, just like yesterday, though there’s probably an entire pack of 20 in his bag. He has what you call a ‘resting bitch face’ right now as they’re, once again, walking down the sidewalk towards the Museum of Heroes. 

And Black Cobra raids don’t usually occur one after another, so they should be safe for another stroll. Or at least he hopes so.

.

Okay, Atsumu’s definitely stalling right now.

“What?”

Atsumu blinks up at the reporter.  _ That was aggressive. _ “Huh?”

“Why do you keep sighing, it’s getting annoying.”

_ I’m sighing out loud??  _ “Oh, um...” Atsumu sighs, then realizes what he just did. “Y-You were right about yesterday?”

Omi shrugs his shoulders up slightly. “About what?”

“Um, about….” Atsumu glances down at his camera, clicking the arrows. “How I…. should’ve just taken some pictures?”

“Oh,” Omi drops his shoulders, somewhat relaxing his expression. “I’m usually right about these things. It’s not something to sigh about though.”

“Right…” 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes?” 

Omi squints at him and the stupid smile that he can totally feel right now. “You didn’t say something stupid afterwards.”

“Do ya always expect me to say something stupid?” He squints back. 

“Kind of,” Omi shrugs, facing forward.

“Oh…” 

_ The ritual. The photo ritual! He’s not wearing his mask! _ His mind helpfully reminds him after another moment of silence.  _ Ugh, what’s with all this tension, it’s makin’ me uneasy. _

“You’re a lot tamer today.”

_ It’s like yer readin’ my mind or something, Omi-kun.  _ “Is that so,” Atsumu sighs ( _ again?? _ ) as they finally,  _ finally _ make it in range of the museum. The museum's pretty sizable for one in a city; twice the width of a normal building and just as high as three-story residential apartments. Even if it’s just a building, it looks really advanced, like it was made in the future or something. You can still tell it’s a museum though, if the large ‘Museum of Heroes’ at the top of the building didn’t already tell you.

Luckily, there aren’t any Black Cobra monsters in sight but there’s enough tension to explode a…. an ant. Not that much but it would still explode. “I’m a little tired,” he shrugs as they walk up the few steps to the entrance.

For the readers at home, that means he’s more than a little tired. Not a blink of sleep last night (he says after six hours of sleep). There was a strange moment in the middle of the night where he just… woke up. He can’t exactly pinpoint what kept him up for  _ an hour _ but it was still an hour of wasted, restless sleep. Something was bothering him, like the punchline of a joke he was trying to remember. 

_ Must’ve been one hell of a joke then, _ Atsumu thinks as they make it to the top of the stairs. 

Then out of nowhere, Omi comments: “Running back home after faking an injury must have taken a lot out of you, hmm?”

And something gets caught in his throat. Atsumu coughs to his side, away from Omi, before glaring at his partner. “What is  _ wrong _ with ya? Weren't ya there when those thugs mannapped me?”

“Mannapped?” Omi raises an eyebrow. “And yeah, I was. You just didn’t look as distressed after that than when you entered the department.”

In a moment of panic mania as they approached the door, Atsumu lifts his camera and snaps a picture of the man beside him, surprising not only Omi, but himself as well. 

_ Why did I do that?  _ His eyes widen as he briefly glances down at the tiny screen.

“Wh-”

“You weren’t smiling,” Atsumu cuts in, failing to sound disappointed. 

Omi blinks at him, his mouth agape. He almost looked like a TV glitching or a statue about to fall over.

But before he could say another word, another voice pipes up in front of them. “Sakusa-san!”

Omi tenses again for a moment before straightening back up, shaking his head slightly. His eyes somehow sharpen as he squints at him and his camera, the footsteps of the woman approaching them clicking into their ears. He schools his face once more into an open neutral one and Atsumu knows that he’s in interview mode.

_ Does this mean I got away with that? _ Atsumu sighs to himself in uneasy relief. 

Omi turns slightly around to wave the woman over. “That’s me,” he says to the woman, who’s half his size.  _ Is she a college student? High school maybe? _ “Are you our guide for today?”

“Uh, yes!” She nods, her blond hair bobbing even though she’s wearing a hair tie. She clasps her hands together and bows slightly at the two of them. “I’m Yathi H-Hitoka! I mean,” her face hardens as she takes a short deep breath. “I’m Yachi Hitoka. You both have probably seen and read everything about his place, huh?”

_ What a complete change of demeanor. _ “Yeah,” Atsumu nods back. “Y’all have a lot of stuff about the heroes.” 

“As much as they’ll allow us,” Yachi smiles weakly, scratching the side of her cheek. She’s wearing the official museum uniform, so she must be a full timer. “Would you still like a small tour before looking at the Synergy statue? It’s quite popular since it was first revealed, and since we missed yesterday, it’s pretty much guaranteed that a few guests will curiously hover around.”

Atsumu glances at the back of Omi’s head.  _ Hmm. Which is more important Omi? _

“O-of course, no cameras from the guests will be allowed until the public opening!” Yachi shakes her the palms of her hands in front of her, her eyes widening. “I can always try to get the rest of the staff to close off the second gen area if it will make the interview easier!”

“No.”

Atsumu’s eyes widen.

“It’s okay. You could probably announce that there will be a private interview there so they don’t crowd,” Omi says calmly, as if his statement didn’t completely conflict with his ideals.

_ Well, _ Atsumu thinks as Yachi leads them out of the entrance.  _ Maybe it’s ‘cause they don’t know? He doesn’t do that many outside interviews… Or maybe he’s sorry for scaring her? Maybe for inconveniencing the staff to reschedule so soon? _

“So, how much do y’all know about Synergy?” Atsumu wonders out loud, staring at the paintings and murals lined along the halls. Omi glances at him with a brow raised.

“Hmm,” Yachi hums with a hand on her chin. “I’d like to say quite a bit, but do we really know that much about all the heroes anyway?”  _ Ooh, nice question, _ Atsumu nods. “If you’re asking about fact-wise, we know about three quarters as much as the rest. He’s stated a few personal facts on interviews, in battle when a superhero reporter catches them, or when the head of the League of Heroes gives us information to add or change.”

“Hmm,” Atsumu hums in acknowledgement.  _ Do they say or change anything about me? _

“Oh, Kiyoko-san!” Yachi waves over to another woman, raising her palms to the two of them as she backs away. “I’ll be right back.”

The two of them nod, waiting as they watch the two women exchange words. She looks more confident talking to her than to them, though it might be from the intimidation of height than anything. She seems headstrong. 

“Was that a genuine question or did you not read the notes at all?”

“I read the notes,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he lifts his camera, tilting it so the right side lines up with the bottom of a painting of all the heroes. He snaps a photo, checking the quality as he replies, “I was just askin’ her how much she thinks she knows Synergy.”

“Okay!” Yachi shouts back at the two of them, waving back at the other woman. “They should be announcing it soon. Thank you for your patience!”

A hanging question stays unspoken as Yachi continues to talk, starting with a brief introduction of the founding of the museum. 

—————— 

They enter what they call the ‘First gen chamber’ through a large arc in the center of the wall. A grand statue of Galaxy is fixated in the middle of the room. As the tallest statue on display at six meters, Galaxy wears a determined grin, his hands propped on his hips and floating. There’s a holographic cape waving behind him, the details about him circling at the platform of his statue.

“The leader of the heroes and guardian of the people: Galaxy,” Yachi starts. “Many people remember being saved by him in one way or another; his bravery is really inspirational. He’s a mastermind, knowing how to utilize the rest of the hero’s strengths and lead them to victory against evil. He’s also humble, allowing others to shine when they need it the most, though he might be the most popular among the rest for obvious reasons.”

_ Humble? _ Atsumu raises an eyebrow.  _ That statement contradicts itself. _ Literally last week when a few of them were free to hang out, Oikawa made a slideshow on why he’s datable, aka a slideshow promoting himself. To be fair, Akaashi did the same about his boyfriend (he was being petty) and even Yahaba did one about why every hero would die on an isolated island except him (for Atsumu, he put: would die of overexertion). But anyways, humble isn’t exactly the right word to use. Maybe manipulative in a good way. Atsumu’s lucky he’s not on the enemy's side. 

They pass on the right side where there’s a dome in the wall displaying a three meter statue. In the middle, the statue of Moniwa-san, alias Blue (very creative) is wearing a steady, close-lipped smile, his right arm bent at the elbow to show a hologram of ice melting to water above his palm. Before he backed out of the main rotation, he had his right arm extended out, a display of whooshing water playing in front of his hand. His details scroll across the platform he stands on.

“Blue could be considered the level-headed one of the first gen along with Dragonfly-”  _ aka Suga-san, which is- _ , “though he mostly remains as back up and assists other heroes.”  _ HEY, she interrupted _ \- “Though he hasn’t appeared in battle for a year now, he’s consistent with his attacks and can hold out on his own. A popularity vote found that children like Blue because of his charitable and lighthearted personality. He continues to publically meet with children in orphanages and hospitals to talk with and entertain them.”

_???? Okay? Interrupt me, I guess? _ Atsumu stares at the words on a screen. Not all of what she said was a lie this time. He’s not really close to Moniwa-san, but he’s definitely strong for breaking fights between the older crew. 

Now Suga-san on the other hand. Level-headed? He might be the most impulsive out of the first gen. 

The amount of times Suga-san did…. well anything he set his mind to and that plan failing was surprisingly low, so he’s somewhat strategic. He doesn’t break laws or anything; he’s a little reckless, just like Atsumu. He’s pretty instinctive, someone he can trust in a bind.

“On the left we have Seismic,” _aka Semi-san._ _Hey wait, ya didn’t even let me say anything._

Seismic’s display is in it’s own dome in the back of the room, Dragonfly’s display in the opposite side of Blue’s. Unlike the rest of the first gen, Seismic has his mouth open as if he was screaming, though that’s basically his superpower. His arms are bent at the elbow with his hands in fists. Details about him loop around the platform where he has one foot back, his left knee slightly bent forward.

Back to Yachi, “Seismic is the second strongest out of the first gen, as he’s able to control waves of sound. Some speculate that he could probably control light and more, but he’s neither confirmed or denied the possibility.”

_ Spoilers: he totally can. _ Atsumu nods, glancing at Omi. He doesn’t even bother to look at the statue, staring straight forwards.  _ At least try to look interested. _

Anyways, Atsumu’s seen it. It’s… kind of weird, if he’s being completely honest. Semi-san had to make his voice really high and the light is just white light, but still. It’s light coming out of his mouth, though it does take a lot out of him. Atsumu works pretty close with Semi-san, him being the strongest out of the second gen. He’s pretty hot-headed, but not impulsive like Suga-san. He’s really cool, being decently honest with him compared to the rest of gen one.

They finally leave the first gen chamber and go through a short hallway with more paintings ( _ why are there so many paintings _ ) before entering what Yachi calls the ‘Second gen den’. It's unfinished, but it still looks somewhat put together. The only two statues on display are on the west and east sides of the room, the back being empty and the middle platform being covered by a surrounding cylinder. 

_ Den? Why den? _ Atsumu thinks as they walk up to his statue. Er, Foxbane’s. Not Atsumu’s. 

Foxbane’s mask covers the entirety of his head, fox ears lined above where his ears would be staring straight forward. The expression he wears looks almost hungry, but that’s what Atsumu was thinking when he modeled for the statue. His left arm is raised above his head, his hand in a fist. On his right, he’s holding a ball of holographic fire. Details about him shuffle around the platform he’s standing on.

“Foxbane,” Yachi waves her hand with flair. “Another favorite among adolescents. His spontaneous personality makes for an interesting show during battles and reminds them of heroes in comic books. He’s the strongest out of the second generation heros, a regular in the rotation and extremely crafty.”

_ That’s right, _ Atsumu grins up at his statue. He remembers when he was first introduced to the public, every comic fan around the world whispering about the real life spiderman knockoff. It was weird being compared to a fictional character, especially to the degree where he was more popular than Galaxy for a brief moment. Even before that, in his vigilante days, he was extremely popular in forums. He used a different name back then too, so they don't associate his old hero business to him now. He probably has the most solo takedowns too, actually. Galaxy usually goes for the bulkier monsters, so Atsumu has to scout around for others. He assists a lot too with Semi and Shirabu, who sometimes takes the lead when Oikawa’s preoccupied.

He nudges Omi’s side. “Hey, what do ya think about him?”

Omi doesn’t even look up from his notebook. “About who?”

“Foxbane?” Atsumu says, glaring daggers at him.  _ Seriously? _

Omi looks up at him for a brief moment before glancing up at the statue. He blinks blandly at it before going back to his notebook. “He’s okay.”

_ Okay?! _ Atsumu drops his mouth in shock. “Okay?”

“Yes?” Omi raises an eyebrow at him as Yachi passes by towards where the Synergy statue should be. “What else do you want me to say?”

_ Say that he’s yer favorite? _ “Say something other than just ‘okay’?”

Omi looks up in thought. “He’s a good superhero?”

“Is that a question?” Atsumu frowns as he drops his shoulders.  _ Is that all ya gotta say about Foxbane? _

“Why is there an empty one in the back?” Omi asks Yachi, completely ignoring Atsumu’s meltdown. 

“Oh, there are rumors of a 4th second gen hero since the head of the League of Heroes planned the layout of this room. I’m surprised it’s not Crow though-”  _ that’s Kageyama _ , “since he stated that he would be in the 3rd gen.”

Spoilers part 2: the last second gen hero is Akaashi, but I bet you already figured that out. Believe it or not, Silver’s gone out in battle before, he’s just usually invisible for most of it. That’s his advantage against those monsters, since they rely mostly on sight to cause chaos. The thing is, Kenma could also be considered second gen, but for all that the public cares, he’s just the boss of the League of Heroes. He’s a hero in his own different way. 

Kageyama is... kind of naive? He knows his strength, Atsumu’s talking about in a social sense. If he’s as bad with words as a fifth grader, Kageyama’s as bad as a third grader. They don’t even have a statue of him since he’s too fresh; his first public appearance being the Terror Titan attack and only one other time they needed him in battle. He’s done no interviews, but did a slip of the tongue about his hero name and his power to Shouyou-kun, apparently. That was his first outside report too, now that he thinks about it. 

“I see,” Omi nods, writing down a note and ending his recorder. He clicks it again as he follows her, the cylinder starting to lift and show a platform.  _ So that’s what he’s been doing?  _ “What do you know about Synergy?”

“Synergy’s incredible!”

_ Wow, what a change from Foxbane. _

“I actually got to interact with him in battle once, though it was when he accidentally threw half a bench that ricocheted off a minion towards me and Kiyoko-san. B-but she saved us by pushing the two of us out of the way!”

_ Ha!  _

Omi nods slowly, “Okay…”

“S-sorry! I don’t know why I said that,” Yachi clasps her hands together nervously. “Um, so what we know about Synergy is what we gather from sources like MSBY and the League of Heroes. He’s impulsively strategic, almost like a mix of Foxbane and Sparrow’s personalities, but the weakest out of second gen.”  _ THAT’S HILARIOUS- _ “He’s strong enough to take small to medium minions out on his own, but he’s mostly known for his healing powers. During the Terror Titan attack, a reporter from Sendai Frogs stated that he’s capable of creating an immense power boost that could inflict either pain and relief. Galaxy also stated that Synergy would be the leader of the second gen when the time comes for the first gen to retire.”

_ Damn, _ Atsumu nods as the cylinder lifts up completely.  _ What a heavy burden. _

Synergy has his own determined smile with a thoughtful look in his eyes. Both of his arms are bent at the elbow, his palms open with his fingers up in front of him. Holographic sparkles dance around him as the few details about him float around his platform. 

Wow. If they knew the Yahaba he knew… he probably wouldn’t look like this. He’d have a smug smirk on his face, maybe a far away one. He’d be known for his weird personality. Hot and cold, shallow but caring; you know, the works of a decent man. How can someone be so stuck up and doubtful about himself?

Yachi pauses as a staff member waves her over. She raises a hand for her short leave. 

_ Seems to be a good chance right here. _ “So,” Atsumu kicks at the ground. “Do ya hate Foxbane or something?”

Omi glances back at him. “Not really.”

_ Not really? _ Atsumu squints at him, “Then what’s with that reaction?”

“What reaction? Is Foxbane your favorite superhero or something?”

“Well…”  _ Would it be narcissistic to say if I was? _ “Uh not-”

“Sorry for the interruption,” Yachi returns, holding a sort of pamphlet in her hands. “When do we start the interview?”

“Right now would be great,” Omi says, starting the recorder once more. 

_ So yer just gonna leave me hangin’? Fine by me. _ Atsumu grunts, backing up at lifting his camera at the statue. If he hates Foxbane that much then who cares. He should’ve just told him out front. An opinion is an opinion; plenty of people don’t like Foxbane, so he’s used to it. 

As Yachi begins to answer a question, the blond doesn’t see the small glance of the reporter focus on him. He drowns out the noise, picking specific spots to take pictures of the statue: close up for depth and wide range to show the interview taking place. 

And if the lingering look Omi does at the Foxbane statue at the end of the interview means anything, Atsumu wouldn’t know; he’s too busy staring down at the photos of him and his hero colleagues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. I feel like im writing atsumu a little ooc, but thats okay, this is my self projection /hj 
> 
> On another note, as you can see from the chap #s, this spinoff is almost over :DDD  
> I love writing for this au and there's so much to explore about the characters (basically, I'm learning how to write them using this fic haha). I was planning on writing an oikawa spinoff too, but then I realized I :) can't :D write angst :'D
> 
> So until I can, I'm just going to make a mini series of short stories! There'll be more character interactions and development of not only the setters, but the other cast as well! Like why is omi so cold to foxbane? what do the other reporters think about the superheroes? how did shoyo-kun get that information out of kageyama? And more! 
> 
> SO look out for that, I'm really excited to write it!


	6. Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: Sakusa's first outside report never makes it on TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m… trying a new writing style. I’d like to personally thank the Cuphead soundtrack for guiding the fighting scenes :P

A siren blares loudly in the distance. Sounds like someone was being a little too careless on the other side of the city.

It’s definitely not Foxbane at least. He’s just bouncing across roofs, taking names and kicking ass like the usual. Actually, he just got rid of a robot, its exploded ashes floating to the ground behind him as he searches for more. It was pretty easy to take down like the other two from earlier, just a kick and a pull was enough.

It’s only been two days since the last attack when he and Omi’s interview was canceled by one of the Black Cobra raids, way sooner than they usually do; they’d usually have at least a week between each raid.

As Foxbane flings left off a metal railing, he sees a larger minion a block away, a much larger one than the ones he’s seen in previous attacks. It’s not facing him, so he should be able catch this one by surprise and take it down without a scratch.

Except it goes the other way around.

Foxbane stops at a nearby roof and takes a jumping start at the back of the minion’s head, the minion distracted by pulling a small tree by its trunk out of the sidewalk. Then its head spins around in a blink of an eye as if it wasn’t connected to its body; its wide, slitted red eyes reflecting Foxbane’s own red and black reflection. It was like ice froze his chest, but he was already in the air. He had to act now. And so he did.

He reaches his arms forward, scrunching his face as he flips off its head and parrying off the nearby building. He decides to go for the neck, diving forward and hoping for the best. Landing on his shoulder instead, he tries to gain his balance and grips onto its head, activating the claws Akaashi recently added onto his suit.

But in the near distance in the corner of his eyes, he spots a familiar bob of curly black hair.

 _Omi?_ He squints down at him. _What’s he doin’ outside?_

On his left shoulder is the unmistakable shape of a news camera the size of his head. He’s gaping, his eyes wide open and alert, watching from below. He almost looks… mesmerized.

And it catches Foxbane off guard, so off guard that he doesn’t react fast enough to evade the minion’s clutches; its disgusting claws wrapping around his entire body, taking what seems to be its sweet time to fling him away.

But it’s so fast, everything’s going so fast. He feels paralized as he hurdles towards the earth. He tries rolling into his fall like he does when he trains. But the ground is too close and his brain is taking too long to process. He rolls alright, his right arm cushioning his fall into the crumbled ground as he tumbles to a stop. He seethes in pain, gripping onto his probably— no, definitely broken arm. He can feel the rumble of the minion turning its huge body back to him.

 _Get up. Get up, get up, get up!_ He yells in his head, lifting himself up with his uninjured arm. _Damn it. If you weren’t so distracted-_

“Are you okay?”

Blank.

A white spark clears his head. His eyes shoot open as his vision focuses up at gloved hands. Gold. MSBY. Gloves.

Foxbane gets up too quick, accidentally hitting his broken arm somewhere and cringing back down.

A pair of firm, steady hands catch him by his broken arm’s side, his other still holding onto his camera. “Don’t get up too fast, you’ll hurt it even more,” Omi says, his voice intertwined with irritation and… and something else. Something softer.

Welp. Foxbane’s having a heart attack.

He’s just gaping at the other man, even though he can’t see it because of his mask. Speaking of masks, Omi’s opted to not wear one again. Why? He’ll never know.

 _Fuck, he’s gonna think Foxbane’s even worse than okay_ , Foxbane internally groans as he remembers their interview just a few days ago. 

The rumbles get shakier and louder. Foxbane’s brought back into reality, the minion’s mass approaching them, it’s practically above them at the rate it’s going.

Jumping to his feet, Foxbane pulls the reporter’s arm off him with his unbroken arm and steps in front of him. He winces at the shooting pain as he tries his best to keep it still, holding his good arm back to protect Omi, who’s still kneeling on the ground.

If he can focus enough, he can shoot a large enough fireball at the monster to blind it, maybe immobilize it at best. _Holy shit, I can’t even fucking say anything,_ he thinks as he takes a deep breath to clear his mind, once again. _The monster’s getting closer, relax your shoulders, focus. This one’s more like the old ones before Terror Titan. Don’t tell me they’re getting back on their feet already._

Then something grabs onto his hand. Foxbane is pulled down as the taller man pulls himself up from the ground. Omi ends up stabilizing the two of them, his free hand gripping his good hand, his eyes never straying from the monster stomping towards them.

Unlike Foxbane, who’s gaze is stuck on his gloved hand _still holding onto his_ . His eyes narrow at Omi’s side profile. _I wasn’t tryin’ to give ya a helping hand?!_ He sends telepathically to the other. Did it look like he was offering a hand? ‘Cause it was meant to mean he was protecting someone like in a comic book damsel in distress, that damsel in distress being Omi. _Why are ya holdin’ my hand???_

It’s too much. Foxbane flicks his hand away and grabs his forearm instead to pull them away from the minion. He can’t do anything now, the minion’s to close and his mind’s jumbled. Lucky for him, he doesn’t notice the very brief hurt look on the reporter’s face as he shook his hand off.

A few quick paces and Foxbane knows he’s screwed. This pulling is getting him nowhere; Omi’s too slow for his superspeed, not to mention the debris from the minion’s rampage. He can’t pick him up either, his right arm is broken. It’s hanging uselessly across his chest, staying in place from the speed and with his right hand that’s barely holding onto his left shoulder. Even though he said that the minion was gonna be practically above them at any moment, he didn’t expect it to catch up so soon. So he does the most logical thing he can do: call for backup. He stops to let go of Omi’s arm and clenches his jaw while he hits the reinforcement button on his digital watch (thanks Akaashi) that's on his right wrist (not thanks Akaashi).

It’s all a matter of time now as the monster catches up to them, its mouth open wide as it lets out a horrible screech. Foxbane’s eyes trace their surroundings for anywhere they could run to next, but the only open spot is behind them where there’s more debris (how far did this minion go before coming here??), in front of them where the minion’s coming from, and a narrow alleyway to their right.

 _The choice is pretty obvious_ , he thinks as the feet of the minion basically meet up in a car size in front of them. But before it can reach them, a figure swings in from the right, shoving the monster to the left and off balance.

 _Perfect!_ Foxbane thinks as he pulls the two of them to the alley. He lets go of Omi to put his good arm at the wall beside his head, working on catching his breath. _Wow, so these things_ **_do_ ** _have a purpose._

He checks past the corner of the wall, watching as Sparrow swings a fist at the minions chin, swerving out of the way at the minion’s own fist. 

He feels his broken arm move and hisses.

“Sorry,” Omi says. Foxbane glances back at him and his hand that’s now supporting his arm. “And, um, sorry for getting you into this mess.”

 _He_ **_apologized_ ** _?_ Foxbane raises an eyebrow slightly. He doesn’t say anything in response, just a simple nod as he turns his attention back to Sparrow.

It takes an unbearable two minutes of silence between the two of them for Sparrow to finally take down the minion. Foxbane didn’t have the heart to check on Omi. He didn’t even have to look to know that the reporter was definitely staring at him. After all, he still hasn’t moved from his kabedon position and Omi hasn’t moved his arm from holding his broken one.

So when Sparrow finally wins, Foxbane tries to get away.

Taking a moment to gather his strength, the superhero shifts his broken arm back to his left shoulder, suppressing any pain noises to the best he can. He finally says something too since they first encountered each other: “Thanks.”

He winces. That came out a lot deeper than his usual voice.

But he takes a chance to glance at Omi’s face. He can’t quite describe it, he’s never really seen his face like this before. Is he miffed? Shock? In awe? A combination of the three?

He turns away and tries walking out of the alley, slightly overwhelmed. _Oh my god, why can’t I do anythin’, I can’t even look at me when he looks at me like that._

_Yer sendin’ mixed signals, Omi. Do ya hate Foxbane or hate that yer kind of like a fan right now._

“Wait!”

The hero freezes. _Oh shit, oh fuck, oh geez_. He turns slightly back at him, trying to keep his voice down even though he can’t hear himself from how loud his own heart’s beating. “Yes?”

Omi’s gaping, looking as speechless as Foxbane’s feeling at the moment. “Um…” he buffers, glancing up at the cloudy sky. “...What color is your hair?”

_… What?_

“Uh…” Foxbane frowns. Did he hear that right? He just asked for his hair color right? “I… it………...it’s b-”

“Foxy!” The backup yells their direction, the sound of him pushing a heavy object out of the way. “Where are you?!”

Foxbane’s eyes widen. “-back here! We’re back here!” He shouts, leaning on his side. That must’ve been enough, cause as soon as he peeps past the building’s edge, Sparrow’s able to spot him. 

When he jogs (jogs???) his way over to them, Foxbane glances back at Omi, who’s got his eyes narrowed down at him. He quickly looks away. 

“What the hell happened,” Sparrow sighs, raising an eyebrow at the guy behind his teammate. 

“Um, I-”

“He landed wrong and broke his arm.”

It takes a second for Sparrow to respond to Omi’s butt in, but when he does catch up, his dubious expression quickly changes to one of surprise. “He did _what_ wrong?”

It might be the adrenaline, but Foxbane can’t help but visibly cringe from embarrassment. 

“He landed wrong.”

“He _landed_ wrong?” Sparrow parroted (haha).

Omi nods seriously. “And broke his arm too.”

If the telepathic hero was trying _not_ to show his amusement, he was failing severely right now. He tilts his head forward to bite the grin that was about to reveal itself. Slowly taking a deep breath, he flattens his face back to one of soberness (FAKE). “R-right,” he stutters. _He can’t even contain it?!_ “I can handle it from here, please head to a safe house.”

Seems like Omi takes the bait as he nods, or maybe he’s just being nice not to show it (which Atsumu highly doubts). He’s still caught by surprise when the reporter turns his gaze from Sparrow to him. It doesn’t stay long though as Omi bows his head slightly towards Sparrow. “Thank you for saving us.”

His heroic teammate nods back, entering a few things into his arm device. While he does that, Foxbane’s still struggling to maintain eye-contact with Omi, who’s turned his attention back to him again. He can’t even see his eyes with the mask on, why’s he so bothered?

 _Oh right_ , Foxbane thinks as he glances down at his own unopened arm device. For those who don’t know, there’s a rule in the city that if a reporter is caught or saved by a superhero, they need to follow public battle safety regulations and hide in safe houses or safety buildings. They’re just everyday people after all, they don’t have any superpowers to protect them. The one thing that they have that everyday people don’t is a badge that allows them to roam before, during and after the Black Cobra retreats if they don’t get caught. Normal citizens have to hide immediately and won’t be allowed outside until everything’s clear by the reporters of the LOH. Caught or saved reporters need to be documented, but won’t be rewarded or punished. It’s just to keep track who saved who for the companies and LOH.

“You’re welcome,” Sparrow nods, glancing up at the taller man. “We’ll take out leave.”

Foxbane cradles his arm, his hand tired from holding his shoulder and follows behind Sparrow jumping out of the alleyway. They head towards the mansion, Sparrow glancing down at his arm once again but this time at his BC tracker. 

“So,” Sparrow slows down his pace to run beside him. There’s a sneer on his face. “Foxbane _failed_ a landing?”

“I would punch ya if my good arm wasn’t _broken_ ,” he spits out, glaring at the other hero. “And besides, this minion was crazier than the others from earlier.”

Sparrow shrugs. “You’re right, but don’t tell me you got weaker fighting the mutated ones.”

Foxbane keeps his eyes forward this time. “Not everyone has future-eyes, bird-brain.”

“Foresight.” He’s raising a finger up.

Foxbane rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

“Hey,” Sparrow bumps his left arm, showing a small green dot on his arm device. “There’s a robot east from us. Are you going to join or call it quits?”

Foxbane scoffs, ignoring the already increasing pain in his right shoulder. “When ya say it like that, how can I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> number of actual words formed by atsumu to omi: 4 words
> 
> hello dear reader, i had this chapter planned down to a T but just. forgot to write the bulk of it?? and now it's two chapters long?? so uh yeah, tell me if this writing style is wack or something, it took a lot of braining but i kind of like it :D


	7. Sent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu faces his internal problems with no help from his friends (they help a lot [no they dont])

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh needle warning between the --'s, yknow, just in case 
> 
> also, uh, i forgot to write this chapter too, BUT it was fully drafted, mainly dialogue so I had to fill in the setting :P

Not even fifteen minutes pass by before Atsumu finds himself crashing at the Litterbox.

The robot itself wasn’t hard to defeat. A few blunt kicks and a blast of fire was enough to knock it down. But by that time, his arm was really starting to feel like someone was ripping it in half with the sharpest knife they had, even with the small piece of ripped cloth that Sparrow found holding it in place. He’s broken a bone before, but he doesn’t remember it hurting this bad. Maybe it’s because he got help immediately afterward instead of bouncing back from adrenaline and fighting on.

We find ourselves back in the Litterbox infirmary, the second cot occupied by Atsumu’s half stripped body. Yahaba’s hands are holding together his shoulder, a soft glow indicating some kind of healing within him. 

The pillows are soft but flat, which is important because Atsumu’s head keeps squishing out the fluff to the sides from how much he keeps cringing in pain. This is Yahaba’s third time re-fluffing the pillow.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep doing that, I’m just gonna… IV you.”

“No no no,” Atsumu says through clenched teeth. He prides himself on having the quickest self-regeneration out of most of the league and the highest pain-tolerance out of all. He thanks his previous years of vigilante service for that. “Just do yer thing, I can handle it.”

\--

“Yeah, sure you can,” Yahaba nods dismissively, counting to three before letting go of his shoulder and pulling something above him in five agonizing seconds. He cleans a silver thing and- wait is that a-

“AUGH?!” Atsumu shouts in confusion, flinching away despite the pain in his right arm. With no hesitation, Yahaba finds a vein and sticks the needle into it, his face flat, like this wasn’t the first fit against a needle.

\--

In a matter of seconds, Atsumu can feel his body sigh in relief, his body sinking into the cot mattress. He lets his eyes flutter to a close, grumbling out, “I fucking hate ya.”

“You’re welcome,” Yahaba smiles, his cold hands finding their way back to his shoulder.

A moment later, Yahaba finally moves down from it with a pop, shifting over to his bicep. “So,” he says after beat, “you  _ landed _ -”

Atsumu blearily opens his eyes to squint at him. “Ugh, not you too.”

Yahaba raises an eyebrow. “Me too?”

Sighing, Atsumu adjusts his head on the pillow, rolling his eyes. “Yer literally the fourth person to say that.”

In order from the initial Sparrow encounter was Oikawa, who met him where he landed, and Akaashi, who just said it to make sure he was hearing things right. He wasn’t there to check on him, hence the need for Sparrow as backup while he aided Galaxy with a similar minion to his own. Which was good, since he didn’t see  _ why _ he landed wrong.

“I mean,” Yahaba shrugs, “you do brag about it a lot…. and you usually land on your feet…. even Oikawa doesn’t land perfectly all the time and he can  _ fly _ .”

Atsumu sighs, letting his eyes close again. “I know.”

“So what happened?” 

“Uh…”

_ I saw my coworker in the rubble while I was trying to take down a stronger minion and got lost in his expression for too long and got flung off the minion’s shoulder and broke my entire right arm. _

_ As if _ , Atsumu thinks, looking away. “I’d rather not say.”

“That embarrassing?” Yahaba furrows his brows with a quirk on his mouth. 

“Not really.”

After a beat, Yahaba’s eyes widen. “You got distracted by a reporter?!”

The blond stiffens. “What, no?”

“What’s with this reaction then?” Yahaba glares at him, as if he’s the one who said the insult. Well, it’s not really an insult is it.

“It’s nothing, my arm just feels weird.”

“And now you’re lying?” Yahaba exhales out a laugh, shaking his head. “Wow, the denial is really strong here.”

Atsumu scoffs, muttering, “Takes one to know one.”

He feels the other man freeze.  _ Ha! Atsumu one, Yahaba zero. _ He peeps an eye back at the other man, his expression sour. Then he feels a spike of pain shoot through his arm as Yahaba squeezes it tightly. “Wha- hey!”

———— 

Another thirty minutes pass by and Yahaba kicks him out of the infirmary with a brace he has to wear for half a day, not wanting to exhaust all his energy just to fix him to normal. He can make miracles happen, but he’d rather not kill himself in the process.

“Did you  _ have  _ to move it so much?!” Yahaba grumbled while he shakily tied the brace around his neck.

_ Guess he has his limits too,  _ Atsumu sighed, raising his left hand slightly. He  _ has _ been holding up his arm in place for longer than an hour. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Don’t you dare move it any more than you have to,” he said while they were walking back to Yahaba’s room. He looked exhausted.

“I’ll try my best not to,” he reassured him. He should probably not cross this kind of line, especially since it’s his own body.

“Good luck with that,” Yahaba yawns, waving back to him as he stumbles into his room.

“I don’t need it!” He shouts back as the door slams closed. Luck’s got nothing to do with it.

Atsumu’s alone now, just roaming around the mansion since he’s got nothing better to do. He thanks his past self for keeping today free; it would be exhausting to explain what happened to everyone or make up another excuse on why he broke his entire right arm this time. 

_ Would Omi be able to see through it again? _ Atsumu briefly thinks as he passes by the storage closet. Speaking of Omi…

“So Omi reports outside now, huh?” He says out loud to the hall. He breathes out a laugh. “Meian-san must’ve figured he needed the experience.”

Even Shoyo-kun’s got more experience. Or maybe he does; he’s heard that Omi might’ve had experience before signing with MSBY, he’s not really sure. Anyways, it would be good for him; it’s exciting and fun from what he’s heard from the others and from what he’s seen on TV. Actually, did Omi even talk to Foxbane about anything? Wait, the hair color thing. That was weird. Why his hair color?

He continues digging himself in a bigger hole of questions as he makes a turn towards Akaashi’s suit repair room. Just to see if it got ripped or if there was something wrong with it—he did break his arm through it, so there must be something.

But in an ironic strike of bad luck, he slams into a running Oikawa, stumbling back from the force he wss speeding at. He’s caught be his good arm by the now flying hero. “Oops.”

“Oops?” Atsumu raises an eyebrow as he pulls himself up with the other’s arm. “What’s the rush? Why are ya running when ya can fly in the halls anyway?”

“I asked Aka-chan to make me these weighted shoes so I can workout my legs,” Oikawa says, showing off his new black and blue shoes. “I’ve been floating around a lot lately. I want to feel grounded sometimes, you know?”

_ Huh. I guess flying can be a burden sometimes. _ “Sure,” he nods.

“I should’ve asked for them way way earlier, but there’s no time like the present,” Oikawa shrugs, dropping to the ground with a thud.  _ Damn, those shoes must weigh a ton. _ He points at his arm. “Also, yikes, a brace?”

“Yeah, kept movin’ it around,” he shrugs, continuing down the hall with Oikawa by his side.

“Are you headed towards Aka-chan’s suit room?”

“Just to see if my suit was damaged somehow,” he nods, taking out his phone, bare of any notifications. He really loves his days off, no yelling at him from the group chat. “I probably got a mild concussion from that landing.”

“Wow, we’re kind of the same, Atsu-chan.”

Atsumu raises an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue.

“Like how I’ve kind of forgotten how it feels like to run,” he sneers cheekily, poking his bad arm. “It’s like you’ve forgotten how to land safely.”

“I was just caught off guard,” Atsumu winces away, glaring at his senior.

“Even so, you’re usually more aware of controlling your own body.”

“I don’t like where this conversation’s going,” Atsumu cuts him off, turning one more corner where Akaashi’s different tech rooms are lined up.

Oikawa throws his arms in the air. “ _ Why _ does everyone keep saying that?!”

“‘Cause it’s you,” Atsumu rolls his eyes, reading the sign of directions at the start of the hallway. Atsumu thought it was a joke that he put it there, just to brag, but he’s got so many different ones now. It’s gotten to a point of usefulness. 

The silence trudges on as Atsumu finds the kanji for the room name. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Atsumu shrugs. “If it’ll make ya feel better.”

“Like I said earlier,” Oikawa continues, his glare sending spikes to the back of Atsumu’s head. He chooses to ignore it. “You’re usually mindful about this kind of stuff, playing by ear and such. I heard your minion was more violent than previous ones too.”

He nods once. “It was. I heard yours was tough too.”

“A little bit, but nothing I can’t handle,” Oikawa grins with a wink. They pause in front of the suit room. “But you’ve fought tougher minions before, with and without knowing how strong or where they are. All I’m asking is-”

_ Ugh, here it comes. _ Atsumu thinks, bracing himself for the question he knows is going to be asked as Oikawa opens the door. 

“- were you distracted by something?”

Akaashi glances back at them, Atsumu’s suit floating in his scanner. 

The blond sends a blank stare at his senior. “No.”

His eyebrows creasing, Akaashi nods at the two of them. “Hello Oikawa-san, Atsumu-san?”

“Hey Akaashi-kun,” Atsumu nods up in greeting. “Is my suit alright?”

“It’s a little stiffer than I thought it would be,” Akaashi mutters, turning back to his screen. He clicks something on his keyboard and the screen zooms into his suit, displaying its stats. “After the attack before that last one, I thought it would be more protective to use a thicker fabric, but I bet it felt a little rigid, hmm?”

_ Ah hey, this is a perfect cover. _ Atsumu thinks as he pretends to wince. “A little.”

“I see,” Akaashi nods, quickly exiting out of the zoom in and typing a note on the side. “That must have been another reason you were so distracted.”

“Ugh,” Atsumu slides his hand down his face as Oikawa closes the door behind them. “Seriously, can we  _ drop that _ .”

Akaashi doesn’t even try to hide his smirk. “It was going to happen eventually,” he shrugs.

“I’m surprised it took you this long,” Oikawa nods in agreement, dropping on the chair that somehow looks misplaced but it works for some reason.

Atsumu scoffs, crossing his arms. “You guys don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

The clicking sounds stop as Akaashi raises an eyebrow at the blond. “It’s a boy, is it not?”

Suddenly, eye contact is awkward, as Atsumu exhales through his hidden clenched teeth. He tsks, “It ain’t. And stop lookin’ at me like that. Where’s Akaashi-kun, who are ya?”

“I can reassure you that I’m Akaashi,” the invisible hero goes invisible to prove a point, flicking Atsumu’s forehead. He reappears to bow in apology before going back to his computer. 

“Wh, hey-!”

“So who is it?” Oikawa interrupts, propping his head with his hands. If he was laying down, he’d totally be flopping his legs. “Is it a sports instructor?”

_ That’s weirdly specific. _ “What?”

“No way, it’s definitely a reporter,” Akaashi answers this time.

Oikawa frowns at him. “An instructor.”

“Reporter.”

“Instructor!”

“Reporter!”

“Look at him!” Oikawa swings his arm towards Atsumu. “Does he  _ look _ like he’d spend more time at that office? He would meet him at a gym or for extra training!”

“But it’s his job?” Akaashi squints at the sitting man, his arms now crossing in defence.

Their leader props his head smugly on his hand as he distractedly stares at his hands. “You’re just saying that because you’re the only one dating a reporter, don’t bring bias into this.”

Atsumu bites his lip as he turns away, a small huff escaping.  _ Low blow, Oikawa. _

“Don’t talk about bias to me when you’re also dating a sports instructor, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi spits back with a surprising amount of venom. “Also,  _ Yahaba-san’s dating a news writer! _ I’m not the  _ only _ one.”

Oikawa pauses to throw both his arms up in the air. “That’s not the same thing! He’s  _ also _ a sports instructor, so either way, his situation would come out as null!”

“It’s a reporter,” Atsumu blandly states out. To be honest, Akaashi speaking in a louder voice (he wouldn’t call it yelling) is making him nervous. And as problematic as he is, he doesn’t want any trouble between his teammates.

Oikawa and Akaashi turn back to him, their eyes wide but their tongues silent.

“Wait,” Akaashi breaks first, pointing a finger at him. “Is it that guy with the knife skills?”

“There’s a guy with knife skills?!” Oikawa blurts out, his voice echoing back in the room from how loud he said it.

“No!” Atsumu frowns, feeling his face warm. He shakes his head, scoffing to blow off some steam and cool his reaction. “I mean, no. It’s- it’s not him.”

Apparently he has the power to shut people up. 

Akaashi pauses to turn to Oikawa, who does the same with the same skeptical expression, both turning to Atsumu after. “Woooow.”

_ This is some serious de ja vu, or whatever it’s called. _ “Wow???”

“You’re even worse than me.”

The typing sound returns. “At least you admit it, Oikawa-san.”

“ _ Is that an insult, Aka-chan. _ ”

“If you want it to be.”

Atsumu waves his hands in front of him dismissively. “Wait wait, I’m bein’ serious over here.”

At this point, Atsumu might need to get his ears checked, was there always this much silence?

“Right,” Oikawa nods slowly, as if he was talking to a child. “Anyways, aren’t you a reporter?”

_ Wow. _ “Uh, not really. I don’t do reports; I take the pretty pictures instead,” he mocks back at his senior, who just squints at him in disgust.

“Wow, truely a match made in heaven.”

“Stop it,” Atsumu says, throwing a lightweight thing at him. “And Akaashi-kun, we barely work together; he was just there out of convenience.”

The typing pauses for a moment before resuming, Oikawa’s gaze back to the ground as he rubs the spot where the apparently not lightweight thing hit him.  _ Is this gonna keep happening? I might as well turn on some music- _

“Is that so,” Akaashi says off-handedly, distracted.

“Why, did Bokkun say anything about us?”

“He mentioned the two of you a few times,” he shrugs, swiping the screen and taking a step back from it. He glances back at him. “I didn’t know he was the knife person.”

“Wait, so you both don’t like each other?” Oikawa sighs, waving one arm while leaning on his other.

Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “We’re coworkers?”

“But you make it sound like you’re rivals, or maybe you’re in denial that you like working together!”

_ Ugh, enough. _ Atsumu glares at him. “What are you talking about, that’s not what I said.”

“Fine,” Oikawa says, not even flinching at his darker tone. He straightens up and laces his fingers together. “Then what is he to you?”

_ What is he to me. _

For a moment, Atsumu’s mind blanks. Who is Omi?

_ A blunt, pretentious asshole, _ his mind replies sluggishly, as if it stuttered trying to answer. But why would there be stuttering?

Try again.

_ A blunt, pretentious asshole who doesn’t like to smile or talk to people. _

That’s not true. He’s smiled plenty of times; he’s talked to plenty of people, he’s a reporter for fucks sake.  _ He just doesn’t do that with you. _

  
  


Try again.

_ A blunt, pretentious asshole that shares his sister’s firework story but not why he joined the superhero department.  _

It’s not that important anyway.  _ He doesn’t trust you enough. _

Restart.

_ A cool, ambitious guy that knows how to spin a knife and uses movie quotes. He probably learned how to use a knife because of those movies. _

It’s a good skill to know.  _ How did we get to this? _

Again.

_ A funny, confident guy that puts up with your stupid mistakes and remarks with the same energy. The guy that uses formal grammar in his typing, the guy who makes up scarily accurate scenarios that were pretty close to what happened to you. _

Everyone does that.  _ Not like him. _

Not like him?

_ Remember the look on his eyes, _ his mind trails off. 

Which look?

_ Challenge and Awe. _

Oh. Two nights ago. Just a few hours ago. 

He really did look like that, didn’t he? Like he li-

“No wonder you broke your arm; it’s taking you forever to answer about this one guy.”

Atsumu blinks up at Oikawa. Was he thinking for that long? He sends a pissed off glare at him, deciding to stay silent. If he says anything, there’s no way he’s not going to stutter.

He hears a sigh from Akaashi, who approaches him with a slight look of concern on his face. “You don’t have to answer that Atsumu-san. Your silence is already enough.”

A small smile forms on his face. At least Akaashi understands. 

Wait, ‘your silence is already enough’?  _ Is this backhanded sympathy?! _ “Were ya always this mean?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akaashi turns around, grabbing a few things from his table and definitely ignoring him. “Your suit is fine now. You should go rest in your room.”

Oikawa stretches his arms to the ceiling. “Ah yeah, I should probably get ready for my interview later.”

He raises an eyebrow. “With MSBY?” He doesn’t remember Galaxy setting anything up with them until next month.

“No, with Sendai.”

_ Ah. _

“It’s interesting how those two have the most prominent superhero departments,” Akaashi adds in, neatly placing his things in his bag.

“Makes for good business,” Atsumu shrugs, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on. Oikawa purses his lips in agreement, opening the door. “We’re live on TV and they’re online, that’s all the public needs for news.”

“But what do  _ you _ need?”

The younger men turn to look at him, both wearing similar confused expressions.

“What?” He blinks at the two of them, not giving them time to answer. “I’m just saying that if you can admit you’re coworkers, why can’t you admit that you were obviously distracted by him?”

“What does this have to do with what I need?” Atsumu sighs, nodding his thanks as Akaashi locks up the suit room. 

Oikawa paces a few steps down the hall, his back to the two of them. “It’s okay to be distracted sometimes, Atsu-chan. We can’t all be at the top of our game for every second of the battle.”

“Right,” he nods as they walk towards him.

“What  _ you _ need,” Oikawa suddenly turns around, his face scarily neutral. For some reason, the space gets darker. “- is to figure this ‘denial’ thing out. I know that you train hard, and that you could’ve taken down that minion with ease. You need to do something about this guy, whatever he is to you, so that you don’t break another limb, or worse, the guy himself.”

“Anyways,” Oikawa continues as the light returns to normal, stunning him and Akaashi with the change in demeanor. “Whether you accept you’re in denial or not, try changing your distraction into a motivation, yeah? Making up reasons on why you should work harder or even to show off a little just from the thought of them being there can’t hurt anyone at least.”

Atsumu feels a vibration from his pocket, well his phone. He glances down at the notification, his… mind(?) stuttering as he sees the contact name.

-

[Today 1:09 PM]

Omi : Do you have time to stop by MSBY today to check a few things about our interview? I need a second opinion.

-

“Yeah,” He looks back at Oikawa, pocketing his phone and nods. “I’ll get to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~ Que Ambiguous Ending ~~
> 
> ha.... yeah. this was definitely rushed, but i like how it came out. 
> 
> after this exchange, atumu rushes out of the litterbox and arrives at msby, surprising omi for once. they talk about the interview and (after omi brings it up) his first outside interview *insert smiling emoji with hearts*
> 
> ooh also during oikawa's speech, akaashi's thinking about how sakusa-san was atsumu's 'someone' in reference to the first chap, but I couldn't fit it in so. take that as you will :DDD
> 
> AH. Finally done with another dedicated multi chap fic. I might take a break from writing, but i'm super excited to start on the mini series AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


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